


Dark Shadows over Time

by evilleaper



Series: Dark Shadows over Time [1]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Points of View, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilleaper/pseuds/evilleaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam leaps into a Vietnamese prisoner of war camp near the very end of the conflict. From the very beginning Al is reluctant to reveal to Sam his host’s identity or to accept that Sam is being mistreated. Why? Because Al has secrets he has never told anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete and additional chapters will be posted over the coming weeks. This story is not new, just new to AO3, I have however reworked a great deal of it.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Sam Beckett, Al Calavicci and all things Quantum Leap belong to Donald P Bellisario and 'Universal.' No copyright infringement intended. 
> 
> **Warning:** This an M/M story rated NC 17 and contains graphic non-consensual sex scenes between two men. 
> 
> **Thanks:** Must go to beta readers Trent, Lori, and Peta who all had a part in betaing this story in its original form.

It was dark. Darkness so intense it enveloped everything including myself; mind, body and soul. Sound, smell and sensation were gone, no longer mine. Time passed at an excruciatingly rate until finally the impending leap beckoned and I was transported once more through time and space to a new beginning.

Arrival was never going to be my favourite part of leaping. Those initial few seconds while my senses focused and I became one with my host were ultimately filled with trepidation and a vulnerability that I could only liken to walking an invisible tight rope unaided by any sensory ability.

After six and half years it hadn’t become any easier. Why I thought it would I cannot rightly say, wishful thinking perhaps. I had however learnt a few tricks to alleviate the process so it was at least bearable; namely to expect the unexpected and to just pretty much roll with the punches when necessary. My faith in Al and the others I'd left behind at Project Quantum Leap was also still very much intact. Coupled with my belief that God, fate, or whatever the still unknown force was that had taken charge of my project and was now controlling my leaps simply wouldn't allow any real harm to befall me during those terrifying first few seconds. Why then? I asked myself as my inevitable awareness grew, did I have the un-ignorable feeling that this time was going to be different.

Darkness begets light we are told as children and from the dark into the light we all must tread, never to return. Unusual quotes, perhaps. Where they had come from and why they'd come to mind now was a mystery. They did seem to fit somehow. My faith wavered minutely as the waiting seemed eternal, rebirth coming unexpectedly sudden and then in a split second reached breaking point as the very first of me senses returned and focused in one mind jolting scream. _Al,_ my mind summoned as the shrill close by grew. 

Suffocating humidity, oppressive and inescapable. 

Pain, brutal and unforgiving.




I was on my knees; head bowed, my arms held out in front of me, fingers clinging blindly to a worn metallic surface. Shoulders and back tensed, burning with every inch of my being, taut muscles bracing my body against an unseen force behind me. Fiery tendrils snaked their way from a point below the base of my spine and spread, rising until its unmistakable origin reached my cerebrum. _Al, oh my god Al_. I struggled, fighting furiously to reason my growing hysteria down to no avail as my position became abundantly clear. _Al please..._

Terror gripped me, refusing to let go and like the darkness it consumed me. My ability to think rationally beyond reach.

I needed to getaway. To fight and it was only the distinctive sound of a weapon preparing to fire in close proximity to my head and the commanding tone of Al's voice that halted my efforts. 

"Don't move," my observer ordered. "Not an inch, Sam," he barked. 

The strong hands of my assailant intensified their iron grip on my hips as I fought a silent war of indecision. Wincing inwardly I did as Al had instructed, too afraid to move and at the same time horrified, that my compliance would be viewed as acceptance. My head swam with images of the scene I had found myself in.

The disembodied screams I'd heard since arrival slowly became sobs as the assault on me continued. I closed my eyes and heart to as much of it as I could; forcing myself to simply listen to Al's voice. 

"You're okay," he stated repeatedly. "It's almost over, trust me Sam. It's almost over," he implored.

Finally it did end. The sobs were now only whimpers in the distance. Pained sorrowful sounds that seemed to echo off the walls I had not yet seen. The hands holding me grew gentler somehow sliding around my stomach and up my chest, tugging me backward. Releasing my fingers I moved as I was guided, sitting as best I could in the small confides of what I realised was a bathtub; obviously male hands now wrapped comfortably around my waist semi-submerged beneath the lukewarm water in the tub. 

"Take the prisoner back," Commanded my captor, his voice loud in my ears as each word sent a warm expulsion of breath along the side of my heated face. For the briefest of moments, I was relieved beyond words. It had to be me, I thought.

Lifting my gaze, I instantly saw my mistake. 

The rifle I'd known was there lowered and the man holding it stepped back to join his companion. Both were dressed in North Vietnamese Army uniforms, the man they flanked worn the torn remains of the uniform of the same era. Infantry, my Swiss-cheesed brain remarked. Quite plainly the young man was barely able to stand, one arm fell lifeless at his side and his shoulders sagged forward in defeat. His youthful face, bloodied and beaten was streaked with tears. Shed for unimaginable loss, for me. My host, I reminded myself. Anguished eyes locked with mine briefly reflecting all that had taken place here tonight. I dropped my gaze as they dragged him away, grateful he didn't resist. 

Al followed the trio once they had left us, passing through the closed door and disappearing from sight momentarily. Fearful and alone, I cringed in the arms of the man behind me.

It couldn't have been more than a couple of seconds before Al returned and stood once again at my side, but I almost wished he hadn't. I watched under guarded eyes as he drew the hand-link from his jacket pocket and immediately began the process of entering data into the small machine. "You're okay, Sam," he stated again, glancing in my general direction; his attention focused on the small device in his hands.

‘I'm not, I wanted to say. Who are you trying to convince? I wanted to ask.' Instead I remained mute, ashamed and humiliated, silently praying for an end to my humiliation. Dark thoughts crowded in around me, compounding my shame. An occasional sound from the hank-link punctuated the ongoing quiet that followed. The bath water grew cold and I did my best to push the unwelcome thoughts away. I was suffering from the early stages of shock. To lessen the effects I knew I needed to get warm, seek medical attention and talk to Al, preferably in that order.

Eventually the man behind me spoke; soft even tones against my resistant cheek. His initial question oddly intimate considering the circumstances, but before I had an opportunity to ponder its meaning or answer for myself Al spoke for me. "No Commander," he said.

Not completely understanding why I simply repeated the words and so began the strange three-way conversation between prisoner, hologram and captor with the commander doing most of the talking. For my part Al supplied me with the appropriate replies even though it appeared no Commander or yes Commander was all that was required. Finally, apparently gaining no satisfaction from my answers he directed me to lean forward.

"Get up Sam, quickly," Al instructed. Relieved I did as I was told, rising awkwardly. 

Rejecting the idea of searching for a towel I gathered the scatted clothing strewn around the tub and dressed as fast as possible. Following Al's lead I folded the too large trousers over at the waist until they rested on my hips, donned the shirt and moved hesitantly to where Al was standing in the centre of the sparsely furnished room.

"Here, Sam," he said pointing to a small bowl on the desk. "This is for you." 

Examining the bowl I discovered it was filled with a clear liquid. A single unfiltered cigarette lay beside the bowl and I instantly understood its meaning and wanted no part in it.

No, I motioned to my observer, resisting the implication associated with acceptance of what was obviously payment. "Take it, Sam, and you can go," Al promised.

Regrettably I was in no position to argue the indignities already inflicted on me with Al. All I really wanted was to get out of here, as far away as possible from this place and the man who had assaulted me. He had disappeared into the adjoining room as soon as he had risen from the tub, but he would return soon enough and without his approval I knew I would not leave. Also there was no doubt in mind one or both of the men I had seen earlier was standing guard outside and I knew I wouldn't get very far if I did try to run. What further injustices would I be expected to suffer when I was caught?

Taking Al at his word I looked once more at the items set out before me. I had no choice I told myself. I stowed the cigarette in my shirts torn pocket and brought the bowl quickly to my lips, swallowing without tasting, I drained the small vessel and returned it to the desk. It was only then that I came eye to eye with Al.

Although he had been with me through most of the ordeal I had not sought to look into those knowing eyes for fear of rejection. What I saw now surprised me. I had expected Al's expression to mirror my own, but there was none of the shame and repugnance I felt. If anything, his usually expressive face was blank.

"Al," I began, keeping my voice purposely low. "I need...I need to talk to you."

"I know Sam, but it will have to wait until..." he said quietly, his gaze drifting passed me.

"So, Lieutenant, we return to the beginning." It was the Commander. Startled, I froze. I hadn't heard him return. 

Without thinking I repeated the words once again spoken my friend and then turned to face the Commander as he approached. 

He was younger than I imagined; approximating Al's height and weight; his small dark eyes damning me as he drew closer. The sudden urge to back away was overpowering and for the sake of my safety I didn't fight it.

"You play games, Lieutenant."

"No, Commander," I answered without assistance.

Half turning to Al for help, unable to fathom the Commanders last statement I was met with a sight I would not have believed if I had not seen it for myself. My friend of more than twenty years, a highly decorated two star Admiral with a long prestigious career, his eyes cast downward as if waiting for permission to raise them.

\----*----

The guards came then and I was taken away; led the short distance across a sodden compound and delivered at the steps of a small hut. Al walked beside me, relaying what information that had already been gained about the leap and then directing me to climb the stairs. I managed the first one before the bile I had been holding down rose almost without warning. Leaning over the stairs, I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the ground. The two guards scoffed to one another and left me where I stood; bracing my still convulsing body on the side of the hut. Al at least waited until I had finished before urging me inside. 

Not quite recovered; the smell of unwashed bodies and human misery reached my over sensitive senses the instant I stepped across the threshold; stinging my eyes and making me gag once more. There was nothing left to bring up though my stomach lurched and retracted so much that vomiting anything up at all would have brought a welcome relief to my parched throat.

Following the small amount of light generated by my observer I made my way through the darkened interior to the rear of the building. Dropping to my knees, I settled close to where I could see Al standing, the hand-link blinking in his hand, acting as a beacon as my mind recounted my thoughts from arrival. _'From the darkness into light we all must tread._ ' I remembered now where the phrase came from. They had been words taught to me by a kind-faced woman whose name escaped me, meant as a promise that all would be well if I followed what was taught. A prayer toward my salvation, I hoped. My body beaten and abused would heal; my mind I feared would take much longer. ' _From ignorance to understanding_ ,' I repeated silently to myself. ' _Darkness into the light, forgive those their ignorance for they have not found what peace understanding brings_.' 

Al had continued the task of filling me in as soon as I signalled to him that I had found a semi-comfortable position on the floor. He had wandered around the hut as I had adjusted and then readjusted myself until I was lying on my side, my back to the other occupants slumbering nearby. One had stirred and moaned a little when we had entered and continued to whimper intermittently. I had watched Al go to him and check the apparently still sleeping man; my friend attending the other much like a mother checking a sleeping child disturbed my nightmares. Now he sat cross-legged beside me, light from the floor of the imaging chamber circled him; reaching a hand toward home, I rested it in the warm blue light.

After listening to the seemingly endless amount of data Al had acquired I began to drift. I couldn't remember a leap where he had arrived so quickly and with so much information.

I was a prisoner of war, the year 1973. The camp where I was presently held was approximately thirty miles from San Hoi and I, the Lieutenant, had been here almost a year along with the majority of the other men. The newest members of the group, Private Jeffrey Marsh was my reason for leaping in. He would die very soon according to Al.

"Two days from now he'll be found hanging from that beam." Al was saying now, motioning to a point behind me. Twisting around, I strained to see where he was indicating. Overhead, approximately ten feet above where I was laying, a number of darkened shapes stood out against the background of the roof.

Shifting for a better view of the roof I propped myself up on one elbow; my fingers coming in contact with a small area on the back of my head that was swollen and tender to touch. It was also sticky I realised after further investigation, the hair around it matted. By texture alone, I confirmed my suspicions. It was blood, my blood.

"I'm hurt, Al" I told him, offering my hand for inspection. The wound must have been sustained before I arrived because I knew I hadn't been struck since.

Al glanced at my hand for a moment before looking back up toward the roof of the hut, dismissing my statement without as much as a mention.

"Al?"

"Rifle butt, Sam," he informed me still looking skyward.

Perceiving Al's lack of concern to be disinterest, I withdrew my hand. I shouldn't have felt as hurt as I did. He had been a pillar of strength during my ordeal. His swift arrival and guidance throughout had saved my life, as I know he had on countless occasions in the past.

Al’s behaviour while we'd been in the Commander's quarters had been unusually business-like, bordering on cold. Under the circumstances it was probably for the best, but I had expected that to all change once we were alone. The tenuous privacy we had achieved since entering the hut was not ideal, but it was certainly better than some of the situations we’d been in before. Our never ending trips to the men’s room came to mind, which has been our usual default when seeking time alone, but none of our previous attempts seemed relevant now. The men scattered around me were asleep. Their grief and pain palpable even to Al and yet his mood hadn’t changed. If anything the detached demeanour he had adopted to support me through my time with the Commander was starting to feel less like help and more like rejection. 

I tried not to dwell on what I thought Al’s coolness implied, with little success.

Creeping through the dark, slithering along the floor of the hut the sounds and sensations of my arrival come back to me. The pain that originated from my lower body and the blood on my hands served as a cruel reminder to it all. Fear tugged at me from all around. Shuddering under the renewed onslaught of emotions, I wiped my fingers clean on the drawn up leg of my trousers and lay my head down on my folded arm, closing my eyes. It wasn't enough. I could still feel his hands on me; still see the scene I had leaped into replayed over and over in my mind’s eye.

Curling into myself I lay trembling as I was once again besieged by shame, until sounds of obvious discomfort from Al pulled me out of my nightmarish reverie.

Groaning as he untangled his legs I watched as he stood. Rubbing the small of his back he bent and while juggling the hand-link, offered the same treatment to both of his knees.

"That's all I got at the moment," he announced, raising the hand-link and entering the required code for the imaging chamber door. 

He was leaving, I realised.

Taken back I pulled myself up again. Craning my neck to look at my observer, I tried to delay him. "Don't go yet, please Al. I need to talk to you...about before." I whispered, aware even though Al had assured me the other men in the hut were asleep that we were not alone.

"Try not to think about it, “Al returned, raising the hand-link once more and this time opening chamber door. “Trust me; it's easier if you don't.”

"I can't help it. I ache all over, can't you stay a little longer. Please?"

"You're okay,” he reminded me again. As if telling me I was all right would somehow erase what had happened to me “You need to get some rest,” he went on. “You’ll have to be alert tomorrow and for however long you're here."

Rationally I knew I was here for duration of the leap, but hearing Al say it made me cringe. I didn't know if I could bear to face more than a few hours in this place, let alone days. What if I had to deal with the Commander again? Al had said the day after tomorrow was when the private would be found. What if that wasn't why I was here? Maybe there was something else and we haven't discovered it yet, it may mean I would be here longer. 

Unshed tears stung my eyes. "Al, I'm frightened. I don't know that I can do this." I told him, no longer ashamed to admit how afraid I really was.

I watched as he paused and for the briefest of moments I held my breath, hoping for I am not sure what, that my friend would finally show some compassion, stay with me perhaps, but for reasons I couldn’t fathom it was seemingly too much to ask. 

"I know kid, but you'll have to get past it. Private Marsh needs you and you have to focus on that, okay?" 

The indifference in Al's voice was unlike anything I had encountered before. I felt dismissed, confused and afraid; completely at a loss to understand his strange behaviour. The imaging chamber door had remained open behind him as we spoke and I realised then that he had no intention of closing it.

"Don't you care that I'm hurt?" I was almost afraid of his answer. Al was not a man who generally wore his heart on his sleeve but credit where it was due he had always acknowledged another’s pain in the past, especially mine.

"Of course I care, Sam, but I have to go and check on the Lieutenant. I can't stay here with you for the entire leap. You'll be okay until I can get back."

"Please, Al." My voice was rising now; panic gripping me without warning. Scrambling to my knees I reached for him, my hand falling to my side seconds later. It was useless; I couldn't touch Al or stop him if he was intent on leaving. Despite the huts other occupants, I was alone and had been since the moment I arrived.

“Settle down," Al warned. The authoritarian tone I had heard him use on numinous occasions over the years turned on me. 

It pulled me up short, though it was difficult to say which one of us was more surprised. I sat back, my heart pounding as I watched the hand-link raised yet again and the chamber door close. Casting a watchful glance around the hut Al then knelt down in front of me. Thankfully, my raised voice had not disturbed the other men.

"Sam, you've leaped into situations worse than this." He told me, though for the life of me I couldn't imagine what could possibly be worse than this.

"When, Al? Please tell me." I asked, trying to give myself something to compare my current turmoil. 

Breathing heavily and still shaking I waited for Al to answer my question, but it didn’t take long to realise that when put to the test, he couldn't actually come up with a time when things had been bleaker than what they were now.

"You can't think of one, can you Al?" 

"It's not that, Sam. I just don't see why you'd want to talk about it. It's not like you haven't found yourself in similar positions before."

I found Al's attitude absurd under the circumstances. He was right, of course; I had on a number of leaps arrived when my host was in the midst of a sexual encounter, but to my knowledge, sex between consenting adults and rape were two different things.

"It's not the same and you know it." I replied, keeping my voice low. "That man, the Commander... raped me."

Something happened then, I'm not sure what. Al's cool businesslike manner changed. His glare spoke of disgust and something I couldn't name. Shaking his head he stared down at the hand-link in his hands and by the time he looked back at me his expression had reverted back to the same eerie vacancy I’d been seeing since I arrived.

"It wasn't rape, Sam," he returned firmly.

"What?"

"He didn't rape you. What happened was consensual."

"I had a rifle pointed at me or didn't you notice that?" I spat. I hadn't intended to sound so bitter, but my disbelief had turned very quickly to anger. What Al was telling me made no sense. 

I understood what had happened to me was difficult for him. He had been as powerless as me to stop it. Over the years Al had said very little about the time he'd spent as a POW. Choosing I had assumed to put it behind him and move on from whatever memories that time held for him, much like what he was trying to get me to do now I guessed. Still, it didn't explain his obvious reluctance to acknowledge the true nature of what had occurred.

"Sam you of all people know that not everything is as it first appears," he offered as he rose to his feet again.

"Except in this case when it’s exactly what it appears. You're wrong, Al. How can you say that?”

There was no immediate retort. Lost and confused I searched my observer's face for answers, finding none. Callous was not a word I would have ever thought to use when describing Al, but his treatment of the situation and me couldn't be described any other way. 

My nightmare was steadily getting worse. Al was still holding my eyes, but I could see that he was finding it increasingly difficult to so, finally he looked away. 

First, Al had been unwilling to discuss the events in which I had leaped into. Now I was being told they were something they were not. What was I being asked to consider, that the man I had replaced had some sort of agreement with the Commander? That he had willingly allowed himself to be taken in front of the others who had been there? What of the younger man I had seen briefly; whose screams I was sure would stay with me to my grave? 

I made no attempt to stop the tears that welled in my eyes and slid down my cheeks, stinging the scratched and bruised skin as they fell.

It was too much. I turned from where my observer still stood and lay down again. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds of the others around me as they slept. The familiar sound of the chamber door opening and closing came not long after and I was alone again in the dark, more afraid and confused than I ever remember being. Al and I had disagreed before, but this seemed different. I couldn’t explain it. I felt cut off and alone; adrift in a strange place. Home was further away now than it ever had been in all the years that I had been leaping.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts out from Sam's point of view, but shifts to the third person in scenes where he does not appear.
> 
> I seriously considered rewriting the scenes where Sam doesn't appear and making them first person to fit with the rest of the story, however I quickly realised that the information contained in them is best told in its original format.

Sunrise came after a seemingly endless night. Al had returned several times but we had not spoken on any occasion. I watched him check the sleeping men and glance in my direction, but he made no effort to approach me. Once again, he paid special attention to the same man he had been concerned with previously; bending over and speaking low to the restless form, even though he knew the man, whether awake or asleep couldn't possibly hear him.

It had started to rain after Al had left me the first time and become a steady downpour throughout the night. Somehow it seemed right, an omen perhaps that when it stopped, the world around me would be cleaner. At best, it would alleviate some of the heat and oppression that filled the air. I had been tempted to go outside to relieve myself a number of times and wash, but fear that I would encounter one of the guards had stopped me.

Uncomfortable and distressed I had laid awake listening to the rain and praying that the new day would not only bring a speedy solution to the leap but some explanation to why Al believed that I had misinterpreted the Commander's assault. 

Of all people I know what appears is not necessarily so. You can't always trust what you see or hear. Was Al right? Had the Lieutenant agreed to the Commander's demands? Even if he had, I had not and it didn't change anything.

What I had learned about the leap so far was more than I usually had to go on, but I couldn't remember if the Private Al had mentioned had been murdered or he had killed himself. From past experience a murder in a P.O.W camp was not likely my reason for being summoned here. If he had killed himself, it meant there was a greater purpose to his life than to be simply another casualty of war.

As light filtered through the open door way and the others stirred I thought about the previous night. The despair that welcomed these men was nothing short of horrendous and I had little trouble understanding why one, if not all of them, would choose to end it.

Private Marsh turned out to be the same man who had witnessed my humiliation when I arrived and also who Al had visited periodically through the night. He was young, no more than nineteen or twenty, fair-haired, tall when he stood and unmistakably very good looking. More than an hour passed before he spoke to anyone and when he did, his rich Australian accent drew all attention to him. The arm he held tightly to his chest was obviously injured. I couldn't help think how I'd seen he him struggle in the Commander's quarters, how his pleas had gone unanswered and how he had been forced to watch. His motive for killing himself was abundantly clear and even though I hadn't actually spoken to him, I felt as though I understood him better than anyone. After my own ordeal I had serious doubts concerning my ability to help him, let alone stop him.

The others didn't mention what they must have heard the night before or likely suspected had gone on. Private Marsh's shoulder had been dislocated and had to be reset. Our medic was not much older than Marsh. Private Steven 'Steve' Thorn had spent eight months studying to be a paramedic in Chicago before he joined up. This piece of information was announced to the resisting patient as I watched him, assisted by two other men administer the oldest form of anaesthetic on Marsh. Out cold, his shoulder was reset and he was settled carefully in one of the back corners of the hut, not far from where I had rested last night.

As the morning pressed on I spoke with the others, learning the routine by listening and watching them. The rain had let up a little, but Al had not come back again by the time we were assembled in the compound outside the hut. With Steve's help, Marsh joined the group. Standing next to me, he joked with the others about the weather. On the whole, with scarcely any resources, their combined spirits were higher than I expected given their circumstances.

At the same time the Commander stepped from his quarters, Al appeared behind him. Dressed in his white uniform, he stood aside from everyone as the Commander spoke with his men and then very briefly to the prisoners, myself included. Dog tags, which I hadn't thought about before were produced along with a clipboard from which names and ranks were read. It was only then that I thought of the Lieutenant's identity. Al hadn't given my host a name and since my arrival I had only been addressed as Lieutenant. Listening more closely now, I tried to figure out which one I was amongst the others, missing the first two or three names before I realised that this would give me a clue to the man I had replaced. Was he still alive I wondered and if he was, what strength had he called on to survive the time he had spent here?

The rain had stopped and the sun was shining when the Commander returned to his quarters with the last of the proceedings conducted by the man's second-in-command. The group was dispersed then with each man going their own way. Feeling a little lost; I took the opportunity to survey the camp. Looking around I could see three huts other than that of the Commander's and the one I had exited. The camp boundaries were easily defined spanning an area of perhaps a little over an acre. A water tower, now overflowing stood in what I guessed marked the centre of the camp. A guard was posted on top of the structure and as I stood and watched another relieved him. I glanced away quickly when the new man returned my stare with interest.

Al had continued to keep his distance throughout the time the Commander had spoken to us. He moved closer when the other man started to wander away, but did not approach me until I had completed familiarizing myself with my surroundings and together we headed for a little privacy around the side of the hut.

"Hi, Sam,” he offered casually.

I nodded in return and folded my arms across my chest, deciding I would keep my part of the conversation as quiet as possible. Al caught on almost immediately.

"Good idea. No need to draw undue attention to yourself Sam," he remarked strolling along side.

We walked approximately twenty yards past the hut towards a mound of soil. At first glance I thought it was a grave but with a closer look, I realised it was most probably a disused dump or latrine. Al's attention appeared to be focused elsewhere, even when we stopped he offered no more by way of conversation. I took a seat on the risen ground as he continued to study the hand-link. After last night I had little hope he would ask me if I were okay. In Al's eyes I was and there seemed little I could do to convince him differently.

Al was a man whose prejudices had shaped his entire outlook on what had happened to me. I had no doubt that if I had leaped into a woman his reaction would be completely different. The idea that one man could rape another was absurd to a man like Al, impossible. At that, I had second thoughts about whether I could actually discuss the subject with him at all.

What confused and angered me the most was that knowing Al's past stance on homosexuality, he found it easier to believe that the Lieutenant had been a willing participant therefore making what had happened to me unimportant.

"I met Marsh this morning." I told Al once I was sure no one could hear me.

"That's good, Sam. You'll have to keep a close eye on him from now on. Ziggy thinks he had help, but I'm not convinced.

"So it was suicide?"

"Yeah, the kid killed himself." This said as my observer finally looked up from the link. He appeared exhausted, dark shadows under his eyes indicating that he had not slept either. "He left a girlfriend and a bunch of family members wondering why," Al went on.

Staring toward the hut he then stowed the hand-link in his trouser pocket. Extracting a cigar from another, he lit it and drew deeply for a few moments before he spoke again. "From what we have found out Marsh and the Lieutenant were pretty close. You should spend some time with him Sam maybe you’ll able to find out what set him off."

Despite what I had already experienced. It was difficult to believe that Al could be so insensitive. 

"He was there last night. Don't you or Ziggy think maybe that had something to do with it?" 

Ongoing frustration had clipped my words more than I had wished and regrettably, it had the most obvious response. Al’s eyes narrowed and I saw the change; the easy going become incensed. 

"Under no circumstances will you discuss last night with Private Marsh.” Al returned, staring at me much the way he had in the hut, challenging me to argue with him. “Do you understand me Sam?"

"No, I don’t,” I replied. “He witnessed something terrible.”

Al glared, but no more was said. His head was tilted to one side; listening I realised. 

Over the years I had known others to either replace Al or to join him in the imaging chamber when we spoke. Of course I couldn't see them and Al never addressed them directly, but there were times when things were clearly difficult for him I got the impression that someone else was with, him helping me through him.

I took a chance that I was right and Verbena had indeed decided her expertise was required. 

"Is Verbena there with you, Al? What does she think I should do with Marsh?" Not waiting for him to answer, I forged on. "Does she think I should do what you want and pretend he hadn’t watched his commanding officer raped by the enemy? That his efforts had been a waste?" Distressed once again I ran out of words to describe what Private Marsh had gone through, what I had suffered. No matter what I said, it would not elevate my frustration enough for me to heal even a small part of my hurt.

Al flinched; whatever was being said to him by the unseen individual had cut close to the bone. He turned from me and the other and in a split second before the door opened and closed again I saw the brightness in his eyes. What I hadn't heard had brought Al to the verge of tears. A perverse satisfaction lightened my heart a fraction and then there was nothing, I was filled with despair again; alone as I sat on the damp soil.

I knew Al would return and when he did I could only pray that he would tell me what the hell was going on. 

\-----*-----

**Stallions Gate, New Mexico. 15th of May 2001.**

"What on earth do you think you are doing, Admiral?"

With his shoulders slumped forward and his back turned to hide the tears he had been unable to stop, Al whispered his answer. "I really don't know, Verbena. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore."

Turning into the same arms that had eased him to face her, Al clung to the woman as if his life depended on it, sobbing quietly as she soothed away the trauma reawakened by old wounds. For countless moments Doctor Verbena Beeks simply held him, shielding his body with her own; aware that the scene currently being played out inside the imaging chamber was also being viewed by the Project’s head programmer and his technicians. 

Verbena knew that the emotion rolling off her friend in waves was a breakthrough, but she needed to move them away from the prying eyes of others. She needed to talk to him and it was not the kind of conversation that could take place under the watchful gaze of Gooshie or anyone else. "I'm sorry," she hushed, coaxing Al’s shuddering body to settle. He was running on fumes. "You need rest..."

It was the truth, but not what Al wanted to hear; the need for comfort abandoned as he stilled and then pulled back. 

"No." He returned, cutting her off and struggling in her arms until she released him. 

Freed, Al stood apart from her, the cigar he had lit had gone out and hung loosely between the first and second finger of his right hand. He still couldn’t look at Verbena. For a shrink she was as close to human as any he had met over the years, but it didn’t change the fact that he hated her seeing him like this. The cigar was returned from whence it came and a neatly folded handkerchief extracted from his pants pocket to wipe his face. He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to hers, purposely softening his tone. “I need to get back to Sam,” he explained.

It was understandable and certainly not unexpected that Al wanted to return to Sam as soon as possible. Given his current position consistent communication was essential. Al wasn’t the only one who could provide him with guidance however.

"He’ll be okay for a while,” she pointed out. “I can have Gooshie check on him, if you like."  
Al was clearly not impressed with her suggestion; shaking his head and completely dismissing the idea as he fumbled for the hand-link. He was exhausted, raw from what Sam’s latest leap had uncovered, but none of that mattered to Al. He would continue until he collapsed. Verbena knew the relationship between Gooshie and Al was not ideal, but she wasn’t willing to risk any further interference with the leap simply because he didn’t know when enough was enough. 

"When you're rested, you and I need to talk,” Verbena pressed.

Al opened his mouth, ready to argue, but she was having none of it. She reached out to still his hand. “I know you don't want to, but you have to talk about it, Al. Sam does need you and you are the only one who can help him through this. You've been there."

The realisation is painful, acceptance slow, but Al nodded. His response as honest as Verbena could hope for. "I don't know that I can talk to you or anyone else about it," he offered. "It's been so many years. I thought..." 

"You thought what, Al? That it couldn't hurt you anymore; that after thirty years what you and the others went through didn't matter? Wouldn't affect you? Am I getting close, my friend?"

Al swallowed hard, surprised by how well she knew him "Yes," he returned evenly. 

\----*-----

Several hours later Al entered Verbena's office as agreed. He had changed out of his uniform and was now casually dressed in faded blue jeans and a lightweight denim shirt. Immediately making himself at home he took a seat on the leather sofa that took up one entire wall of the room. Pulling off his shoes, he rested sock-covered feet on the armrest. 

Verbena smiled from behind her desk. The contents of Admiral Albert Calavicci personal file spread across the blotter in front of her. As always it was interesting reading. Al was a complex man. His mind as multifaceted as the years he had lived.  
Gathering up the many loose-leaf sheets, she returned them to the folder. "Don't get too comfortable, Admiral. I don't find this kind of therapy overly helpful if my patients fall asleep."

Moving the folder to the far corner of her desk Verbena stood and approached him, he looked relaxed enough, but past experience left her suspicious of whether he would actually disclose anything she may use to help either him or Sam. Though, she reminded herself, he had come to her as she had requested and that alone was a promising sign.

Sitting up again Al's face grew serious. "I have no intention of falling asleep, Doctor. Just trying for the full effect." He smiled then, a little embarrassed, Verbena thought. 

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Sure, do you want me to make it?”

In spite of Al’s usual resistance to discuss anything that might be perceived as too personal, he had spent many hours in Verbena’s office. Coffee was made and seats retaken. 

"This has to be a first, Al." She offered as they settled comfortably opposite one another.

Al didn’t disagree. Talking to psychiatrists wasn’t his favourite pastime. She had good ideas though, helped him Sam so maybe there was something she could do to help through dealing with seeing the Commander again. He nodded in return.

"Where would you like to begin?" She asked, adding a little push to get him started. "I thought maybe we could talk about what's happening between you and Sam at the moment." 

It was a safe question Al thought. "Okay. I suppose you've noticed we're not exactly seeing eye-to-eye on this leap," he told her. "It's just too close to home I guess. It's brought up stuff I don't want to remember, let alone talk about. I'm sorry, Verbena. I know you think this will help, but how can Sam knowing all this make it any easier for him while he's me?"

"You haven't even told him he's leaped into you.” It wasn’t a question and Al knew he had some explaining to do there. “Don’t you think that alone will give him hope? He knows you, knows what kind of man you are now."

"It would, if he remembered who I am, what I was to him. That I think that's what pushed him away in the first place." Al fell silent at the last omission, looking away; ongoing guilt for what he believed was Sam reasons for testing the accelerator chamber before the retrieval program was working properly.

In Al's eyes, Sam had been so desperate to escape what his long-time friend was offering him he had risked his own life to get away. This piece of information had taken Al four years to share with her.

Drunk as he had been on the three previous anniversaries of Sam's departure from the present back into the past, Al had disclosed what Verbena had suspected when the younger and very energetic Sam Beckett had first introduced her to Admiral Calavicci. The older man was in love with him and for whatever reasons Sam couldn't see it. 

Al had grown bolder as he grew drunker and she had learned that after years of friendship Al had finally told Sam how he felt. According to Al this occurred only months before Sam leaped and saw the end of their brief and awkward physical relationship. The awkwardness had not surprised Verbena; Sam was as straight-laced as they came. Something as new as a sexual relationship with another man must have been a very difficult adjustment for him. Not that she had been privy to Sam complete sexual history, but to the best of knowledge he had only ever had female partners before.

Verbena sighed. It was disheartening that Al still held on to the belief that he was somehow responsible for Sam actions. "As I have said before I don't believe that Sam saw the chamber as a means to flee his life here Al. Time was Sam's enemy, not you or what the two of you found with one another. I haven't spoken to Sam in regards to your relationship in many years, but from what I remember of that last time, he loved you as a friend and mentor. He never mentioned that the two of you had gone beyond that, but that doesn't mean he was ashamed of it. It just says he wasn't ready to share it with me yet." 

"He couldn't talk about it with me either. Did I tell you that?” Al offered as leaned heavily against the back of the sofa; reminiscing about something that was obviously still hard to believe. 

"Yes, you did, Al. And that's why you feel he left."

"Yeah."

"What kind of things did you want to talk about with him? I know you already mentioned the change between both of you. Was it something specific that he wouldn't discuss?" Verbena had a fair idea what it was. Al had hinted at it the first time they had spoken about his relationship with their absent director, but he was very drunk that night so it was possible that he didn’t remember everything he had told her.

She watched him blanch. The topic clearly not an easy one for him to discuss. His answer coming after many minutes.

"The physical stuff,” Al finally responded. His voice flat, his eyes focused on some point over Verbena’s shoulder and even more moments passing before he went on. “Sam wasn’t overly comfortable with it. He wouldn't go any further than kissing and petting. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just shut down every time I attempted to move things along. Said he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to give me what I wanted from him." 

The last was said so bitterly that Verbena was sure Al wouldn't continue with the session. They had made headway. His ability to speak to her candidly without the aid of alcohol was definitely progress. More was needed though. She still needed to find the connection between what was happening for them now and the leap Sam was involved in.

Leaving him time to gather his thoughts, Verbena stood slowly and collected the now empty coffee mugs that both had set aside. Refilling them, she returned and offered one to the man who stared vacantly into space. 

"Take this Al, drink it." She ordered gently.

Re-seating herself she watched him closely as he lifted the steaming beverage to his lips; sipping slowly, drinking out of habit rather than tasting. Eventually, the mug rested half empty in his lap and his gaze shifted, his eyes signalling his willingness to go on. 

"Still with me here, Al?" Verbena inquired.

"Sure, sorry. It's hard Bena."

"I know, Al. I know none of this has been easy on you, but I need you to talk about the other things that have happened in your life that have also been difficult for you. You know what I mean, don't you?"

He nodded. This was why he had agreed talk to her. Verbena would not judge him for what he had done. It had taken a long time to realise it but she was the one he could trust with the secret he had kept buried for thirty years. "Yeah, you want me to tell you about Commander Tran and what happened during the time I spent in his camp."

"It will help, Al. I promise you that much."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al finally tells Sam who he has leaped into. 
> 
> Sam's point of view.

Despite orders to the contrary I had used the first opportunity I found to talk to Private Marsh -- Jeffery. It had started awkwardly with me asking the younger man directly if he needed to talk about what he'd seen the night before. His initial reaction was a flat-out no. Which didn’t surprise me after what I had observed from the others and Al’s insistence that I was in fact mistaken about the Commanders treatment of myself. Thankfully, once I dropped the subject he seemed more willing to talk to me about everything else, including my wife. A wife it appeared I, or rather the Lieutenant, spoke of often.

Most of the men had someone waiting for them and it seemed their day-to-day existence revolved around their memories of the ones left behind and what each expected when they were reunited. Listening to Jeffrey pour out his heart I was reminded of my absent observer. Al had told me that the camaraderie he had found with the other men interned with him and his love of Beth had been what saved him when he had been a POW. 

The more Jeffrey talked the more I wondered about his suicide. He didn't sound like a man who was planning to take his own life, even after the trauma he had suffered. His life appeared set out for him, a secure job and fiancée waiting for him when he returned. Everything had been decided for him before he left for his tour of duty by parents who obviously loved him and wanted the best for their only son. His fiancée, who had been the centre of the plans made for Jeffrey's future had been his childhood friend and sounded very much like the girl next door. He spoke of her with a kind of sincerity and devotion similar to a young man who already considered her his mate. 

It was late afternoon by the time Al reappeared. He had changed his clothes and looked very much a man who had spent the best part of the day being put through the wringer. Talking to Verbena I decided. Drawn and pale he bent near where I sat with some of the other men playing cards. Not wanting to give myself away I finished the hand already in progress and gathered my winnings of half a dozen cigarettes before joining him on the mound of dirt where we had last spoken. 

Thankfully the grass was completely dry when I sat down and once again I carefully checked for anyone that might overhear us before asking Al what he wanted.

"What's up? You look like death warmed over," I remarked. It wasn't one of my usual greetings, but it did seem appropriate.

Surprisingly Al smiled. It was honest and affectionate and lit up his aging face. “Ah Sam, you’ve always known the way to my heart.”

Al's response was unexpected; I didn't remember him ever being so...I didn't know what. Was he kidding? Whatever it was it made me uncomfortable and very suspicious, last time we had been together I had gotten the distinct impression that I was the last person he wanted to spend time with and to be perfectly honest the feeling had been mutual. Now he was behaving as if nothing had happened. It was just another tactic to evade my questions, I decided. 

The anger I had felt towards him earlier re-ignited quickly. I stood up again and faced him. Onlookers be damned. Al and I had to have this out and now were as good a time as any -- except he was smiling again, at what? I had no idea. What was so damn funny?

"Thanks, Gooshie." Al said aloud, addressing the Project’s head programmer I assumed as he seated himself on an office chair, which had suddenly materialized. 

He was lower than I was now and I stepped back as he adjusted the chair so that he appeared to be seated on the grass. With the hand-link lying in his lap, Al lit one his cigars and puffed a couple of time on the Chivello before removing it from his mouth. 

"We need to talk, kid," he stated, using the cigar to motion me to sit back down.

"I'll stand," I answered.

"Suit yourself. I just figured you might be more comfortable if we sat. I got a whole lot of stuff to tell you Sam and it might take a while. But if y..."

"Jesus Al, what the _fuck_ is going on with you?" 

My outburst was met with stunned silence. It was satisfying although I couldn’t say why. I sat back down near where Al hovered above the ground. "Well? You came here to tell me something so spit it out and let me get back to watching the Private." 

Al took another puff on his cigar before he spoke, his tone of voice a lot less friendly than before. "You talked to him didn't you, Sam? Even after what I said you went ahead and did it anyway."

I didn't answer.

"Geez, Sam." Al's eyes held mine, disbelief clouding his. He shook his head slowly, apparently shocked or disappointed that I would disobey him.

"I'm not one of your ensigns,” I reminded him. “I've been doing this for years and I think I can tell when you're wrong. You're wrong, Al." 

"Was I? Did he want to talk about it Sam? I don't think so." He sounded smug and I was surprised by how hurt I felt as he stared me down.

Unable to stand it, I looked away. Pulling a blade of grass from the earth at my feet, I turned it in my hands as I turned over in my mind what had gone on since my leap in. Unbidden tears rose once again and I hastily brushed them away before they could be seen, feigning dust or the like in my eyes to cover my embarrassment. I was not given to tears often and their frequent appearance on this leap only fuelled my frustration.

"No. He didn't want to talk about it." I said when I was able to face Al again. "But he did talk to me about other things and none of what he said gave me any indication that he was suicidal."

Al seemed thoughtful. "No, but it doesn't necessarily mean he's not be thinking about it."

It was a valid point; there are indicators for when someone is planning to take their own life, but not everyone exhibits them prior to the act. Sometimes there were no signs to warn others and no explanation afterwards. 

"You ever think about it, Sam?" Al asked after a short pause.

I didn’t understand. "What?"

"Have you ever contemplated taking your own life, Sam?"

I wasn't sure how to answer Al and I glanced away again. I still had so many holes in my memory from before I started leaping and of what I did remember, nothing had happened to me that I felt so forsaken that I couldn't deal with. Last night had changed that; last night I had...Shaking my head only made Al press me further for an actual reply.

"What about last night?" He queried as if my mere thoughts had given me away.

"I don't know, Al. I...I wanted to stop the darkness I felt. It's hard to explain. It was something I was taught while I was growing up," I told him.

"Try."

Looking towards the Commanders quarters I started to slowly describe what I had felt when I was there and then afterwards in the hut. "Darkness begets light, Al. Move out of the darkness into the light and you find understanding and forgiveness." Resting my head on my drawn up knees I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to work out how I could make Al understand what was meant by darkness. 

"You're talking about the evil men do, Sam. What the Commander did to you last night, you want to able to understand it so you can move on," he said solemnly.

"Yes." This said as I glanced back at Al. Surprised to see his usually expressive face displaying a calmness I had not seen in many years. He was resolved, I thought. Ready to give me the answers I had sought since my arrival I hoped.

"It started the night the Lieutenant arrived here. Being the most senior ranking prisoner he was taken to the Commanders quarters for interrogation. There he was beaten by two of the Commander's men until he could no longer fight back." 

I watched Al as he told me what had happened to the man that I had replaced, my friend's voice adding no emotion to his words.

"The two guards left when it was decided that there was no risk to the Commander's safety. Alone the Commander used a knife to cut the Lieutenant's belt from his trousers and then he raped him."

"My god, Al. Why?"

"Same reasons anyone who uses rape as a weapon, I guess, to gain power, for cruelties sake, to prove supremacy," Al replied candidly. 

He took several long draws on the cigar he had been nursing and then apparently revived he continued. "He came to the next day in the hut where Thorn had managed to patch him up pretty well. After a couple of days or maybe it was closer to a week the same thing happened." 

Al stopped then and glanced over at me. This odd pause sent a shiver of fear through me as realisation suddenly dawned. He was not only telling me about the Lieutenant, he was recalling what happened to him.

"That's right Sam, you've leaped into me again," he said quietly. 

Confirmation fell over me in dark waves. My mind reeled and my chest tightened to the point I didn't feel like I could breathe. Last night had been the most terrifying experience of my life and for a minute or two I couldn't think past it; the pain and heat that had consumed me. Discomfort from my attack still reminded me of how I had been used. I had leaped into a nightmare, which Al had lived. 

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't form enough for me to expel them. My inability to speak for the moment appeared to be its own reward however. Al's eyes spoke of unspoken gratitude and he picked his up story where he had left off.

"It took me about five or six rounds with the man before I figured out that it didn't matter whether I fought back or not, it was still going to happen. I made a choice, Sam, right or wrong it seemed to be my only chance to stay alive."

Simply nodding seemed to be the only way I could find to convey my acceptance of his confession without making a judgment. I did not trust my voice to keep the horror I felt from it. Hugging my raised knees, I slowly rocked back and forth.

"The dynamics of the camp changed after a while. New men were brought in but the Commander still found a reason to have me taken to his quarters regularly. By the time Jeff Marsh showed up, I was going nightly of my own accord."

Al arched an eyebrow in my direction. His latest omission shouldn't have taken me by surprise, but it did and I suspected my expression reflected as much. Up until a few minutes ago I had believed I had leaped into a complete stranger who had endured the unimaginable; someone like all the others who I did not know but would help without questioning their life choices. This was different, Al was my friend and even though he had tried to explain the first time we had discussed the treatment I had received at the Commander's hand I had not really understood how he could have been so cut and dried about the situation until that moment.

"You did what you had to," I said, finally finding voice. 

"Yeah sure Sam and I am a masochist too."

"Don't say that. You're not." I replied looking away again, too heartsick to meet his gaze.

I’m not sure what I thought exactly. I was still confused. According to Al he had been involved with the other man on something other than that of a forced association, but I knew that couldn’t be right. It was war time and Al was a prisoner. The Commander beat him.

"As I said Sam, things changed. Not fighting him and just letting him fuck me wasn't enough anymore. He wanted more and after a while, so did I." Al stopped then, apparently trying to gauge my reaction.

Long moments of silence hung between us, the humidity and line of conversation making what was an already uncomfortable situation more so. I kept my gaze averted to avoid looking at him, my heart pounding and my mind reeling. He had to have been confused was all I could think; traumatised, trauma does things to your thinking. Al liked women. Loved women, he would never activity seek out sex with another man. Shock and confusion are not easy emotions to hide from a friend though and Al appeared to reading my thoughts perfectly.

"I know you don't want to hear this Sam, but I want you to understand what it was like here. What it was like for me. God, it got so intense that I spent more time dreaming about him, than I did about Beth." 

There was another pause, longer than was comfortable, for me at least. I wanted him to stop, to cover my ears or to just get up and walk away, but I couldn’t bring myself to do any of the things that would have spared me the rest of what had he to tell me. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Al took a couple more puffs on the cigar that he'd been nursing, no more than a stub now and then tosses it away before he spoke again.

"About a week ago everything came to a head, the Commander decided to re-exert some control and I didn't like it, I didn't want to relinquish what I had gained with him. Last night after the sun had set and the others had settled in for the night, I decided I wasn't going to take my usual stroll across the compound. After a while he got the hint and sent his goons for me. When I refused to go, the bastards grabbed the kid. Must have seen him following me around like a bad smell and figured it would get a reaction out of me. Damn right too. By the time I got past the guard at the door the kid was screaming his head off and the Commander had him spread out over that bloody desk like he was the main course at a banquet. I couldn't let him hurt the kid Sam. Practically had to beg him to let me take the boy's place and then, well you know the rest," he finished dryly.

I had stayed quiet through the majority of what Al had told me and now that he was obviously finished I found it difficult to know what to say. There was so much to deal with. He was watching me, his blank face a mask over a maelstrom of emotions I suspected, waiting patiently for me to respond to what must have been the most revealing disclosure of our long friendship. 

I won't pretend that I wasn't shocked and saddened by what Al had gone through or that his relationship with the Commander didn't perplex me. Al had openly admitted to being a willing participant in part, though I still had my doubts on how that could be. And yet, there had been the conversation between the Commander and myself that had seemed far more intimate even for the association Al had described.

My legs have started to cramp and I stretched them out in front of me on the grass, scanning the general vicinity to see if anyone was looking our way as I leaned back and propped myself up on arms. 

"Last night," I started cautiously. "The things he said, Al. I thought that they were..." I swallowed and took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t say what had come to mind. I was afraid realised; of Al's reaction and I what more he might tell me. The Commander had said so many things to me. Some were clearly meant to provoke conversation, others were.... 

Looking to Al for assistance, he sensed my dilemma immediately and the words I had found impossible to utter rolled off his tongue effortlessly.

"Endearments, Sam, intimate phases between lovers."

I knew what the words meant, but even as they sank in; images from the previous night returning to confirm what I had been told, I still struggled to make sense of it all.

"How is that …?" I started ask him.

The laugh that erupted from Al as we regarded one another cut straight to my heart; not for its rich quality or for how its natural charm had gladdened me in our darkest moments, but because I had only just realised that I had not known near enough about him to see that his laughter was covering his greatest shame. Forced in the beginning, I had no doubt about that, but he had been clearly infatuated with this man who had abused him.

I rolled on to my side to ensure that he was listening. "I'm sorry Al, but this is the last thing I ever expected from you." 

He was laughing very hard and I while I knew he could hear me I was beginning to become concerned. I had to make him understand that I did not judge him for the choices he had made. 

"Please Al; listen to what I'm saying." 

Tears escaped one eye and I reached forward without thinking to brush it from his weathered face. Failure to make actual contact had been inevitable from the beginning, but its futility had not gone unnoticed. Through time and space one holographic hand glided through mine, halting as his laughter died just abruptly. Al’s shoulders slumped in defeat. We were so close and yet still unable to touch one another. I would have given anything to be able to hold him, to feel his arms around me for just a moment.

Fear of discovery pulled me back to my original position on the ground. Sitting upright again I tried to comprehend what had just happened between us. Whether it was this new discovering about Al, I wasn't sure, but I felt strangely embarrassed by it.

Extracting a handkerchief from his jeans pocket, I watched as Al used it to dry his eyes and once again I realised that someone I could not see had shared our conversation. Al's posture shifted in his chair; reaching forward as a glass of water appeared in his hand. Bringing it to his mouth, I looked on as he took several sips and then returned it to whoever had given it to him. "Thanks." He said in appreciation, nodding once to an unheard question before turning his attention back to me. 

"Are you okay, Al?"

"Sure, I'm just feeling a little beat, is all. It's been a long time since all of this happened. Kept it all locked away where we keep all bad dreams for so long that just thinking about it wears me out." He explained, tapping the side of his head as he spoke.

"I do understand, Al. Not all of it, but enough. You don't have to tell me any more if you don't want to," I offered.

"Wish it was that simple." Al said, his expression growing darker.

Clouds had gathered above us as my observer had revealed his secrets. The sun was dipping slowly over my shoulder, disappearing behind a cluster of dark foreboding storm clouds. Rain was not far off again, I guessed as I watched one of the other men appear in the hut’s doorway. They had all been here a lot longer than I had and obviously understood the weather patterns better.

Al was staring intently at me when I glanced back at him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The Commander will expect you to go to him tonight, Sam. You will have to decide for yourself how much of what I have told you about him you can deal with. I can't help you when you're with him."

The first spot of rain heralded the end of our conversation. Al offered a small and cryptic piece of advice before he departed; leaving me to ponder it implications as lightning split the sky overhead.

I was not here for him, Al had told me. Private Marsh's life depended on me and by whatever means I chose I was to make certain that I focused only on that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verbena and Al discuss how to help Sam. Third person point of view.

**Stallions Gate, New Mexico. 15th of May 2001.**

"Are you okay?" Verbena asked as Al exited the imaging chamber.

He wasn’t okay, but he nodded anyway. How could he be after what he had just shared with Sam? How were any of them going be okay ever again he wondered?

He kept his eyes averted as the two of them walked past the few technicians on duty in main control. Speculation filled the air, but no one spoke. All were aware that a conversation between Admiral Calavicci and Doctor Beckett had just taken place, but a direct order from Doctor Beeks had made this particular communication confidential and none had been privy to what had been said between the two men as they had so often in the past. 

The short walk through the hub to the offices on the same level was excruciating for Al.

"You didn't tell him the rest Al. Can I ask you why?" Verbena asked once they were safely behind the closed door of her office.  
Al let out the breath he’d been holding since he left Sam. It had been a difficult afternoon.

"No point,” he returned. “Sam doesn't remember us the way we were and I don't see any benefit to telling him now. He has more than enough information to deal with and I don't want to add anything that may distract him from what he has to do." 

"I disagree. I believe Sam needs to know if he is going to complete this leap." Verbena countered, as she seated herself behind her desk and then waved her hand towards the empty chair on the other side. "Take a seat and I'll explain what I mean."

He was worn and tired, looking ten years older than he should, but she knew exactly what it was about Al Calavicci that would make him keep going. Sam Beckett.

"A couple of questions first, Al. Personal questions, okay." She wasn’t asking permission and she certainly wasn’t going to take no for an answer. There was very little she didn't know about the man sitting opposite her and now was not the time to be delicate with his feelings. Ploughing in where others would fear loss of limb or worse, she forged on. "Don't you want Sam to remember that part of your friendship?"

"No. And before you ask me why, ask yourself the same thing given the circumstances and what I have just told him about myself?"

"It wouldn't matter what had happened in the past. I'd want to know that someone loved me, Al. Assuming that hasn't changed of course. "

Feeling more offended than was necessary; Al shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Maybe I don't want to love him anymore and I don't want him to remember so I won't have to pretend that I do," he returned matter-of-factly.

"That’s bullshit Al and you know it."

"What?"

"Do you want me to repeat myself?"

He shook his head.

Both fell quiet, the tension between them not helpful to situation or to Sam. Al knew he needed to better and after a moment or two a small grin appeared at the corner of his mouth. 

"You're right you know. I've tried to stop, find someone who I could be with, but it doesn't work. I guess I'm afraid Bena."

"Of what?"

"That he'll remember and then he really will do something to permanently escape." The small smile faded as Al contemplated what had become one of his greatest fears.

Reading the man she had grown to respect more than she would have thought possible given their rocky relationship, Verbena cut his darkening mood short. "No time for that, Al. Sorry, but we can't afford for you to start going down that path. Sam needs you and we need to talk about just how we are going to help him."

Doctor Beeks leaned back in her chair, stretching. It had been a long day and it was shaping up to be an even longer night. She would rather not have to close Al's emotions down now that she had just managed to get him to open up to her, but time, as always was at a minimum.

"Do you know what I think?" She began slowly; receiving only a blank expression from the man sitting opposite. "After all these years, Sam probably does remember that the two of you were experiencing new levels of intimacy in regards to your relationship before he leaped. He just hasn't tied the feelings and memories together. If you're right Al, and I'm not saying you are and Sam used the accelerator as a means to kill himself then he knows better than anyone what Marsh is going through."

"I don't follow you. What does Sam knowing we were involved with one another have to do with Jeff Marsh's suicide?"

"They were both faced with the same issue and for whatever reason believed that ending their lives was a better option than admitting they were attracted to other men. Think about it Al, Sam had very few relationships with women and none of them, from what I can gather, were overly successful. He was brought up in a time when homosexuality was not only considered a sin against nature, but the law also. Granted Sam is open-minded, but I tend to think that's about other people and not the man he thinks he is." Verbena explained.

Following a line of thinking he had not considered before Al listened to her new theory. "Do you think Jeff was gay? How did you figure that out?" he asked quizzically. "I hardly remembered the kid until I saw him again yesterday."

"Well that explains why you didn't tell me. The Lieutenant does though, and I'm very glad he does. He's been asking about him since he came in." she said, watching closely for a reaction from Al. He seemed lost in his own thoughts for the moment, head bowed, thoughtful as he waited for her to go on.

"The Lieutenant thinks the Private is suffering from a little hero worship and he’s confusing it for something else. He may be right Al, but Jeffrey is never going to find out if he kills himself." 

Al's head came up as he made the painful connection between past and present. 

"I never thought about it too much back then,” he informed her. “Never thought about why he couldn't see the difference between him and myself. I knew why I did what the Commander wanted. It didn't change me, the things I did. I was still going home to Beth. I thought she was there waiting for me and nothing was going to stop me getting there. _Jesus_ , I never thought he'd kill himself over it." 

Slipping out of her chair Doctor Beeks settled on the corner of the desk; reaching for Al as he twisted in his seat and turned from her. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. None of it. The Lieutenant didn't know either. It took me thirty years in the future, asking a few probing questions for him to work it out too. I was guessing Al, what's happening between you and Sam at the moment made me feel there was a connection, so I did a little digging." Very gently she pushed him back in his chair, forcing him to look at her as she finished explaining how she gained the information she had.

"Sam has to talk to him Al. He was right, last night would have been the catalyst. Private Marsh has got to be told the difference and if he still feels that he's gay then someone has to tell him that it’s okay. Someone who knows from past experience that loving another man isn't wrong."

Al eyes were very bright, his face flushed. 

"But Sam couldn't deal with it Bena. It tore him apart to admit that he returned my feelings and he was completely lost as far as anything physical went," he said sadly.

"That was almost seven years ago Al. Sam has grown a lot in that time. Emotionally he is far more equipped than what he was before he leaped. You said yourself that even though it wasn't easy sailing, he did love you. He tried, didn't he?"

Understanding what Verbena was asking, Al thought back to the last time he and Sam had been together as would-be lovers. It was a period in his life that was both liberating and heart wrenching. Being with Sam was a gift he never imagined receiving. The way Sam smiled when he looked at Al was all the confirmation he needed. The physical side of things was hard, but Sam had tried, he loved him, of that Al was certain. 

"Yes," he answered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic violence.

The storm had passed and it was dark when Al came back again. Confined to the hut, we had received our rations for the night and everyone, with the exception of myself was taking up their places on the floor of the hut. Given what I anticipated sunset would bring, its arrival left me less than tired. Outside, floodlights lit up one at a time casting a steady stream of light across the area between the huts and the Commanders' quarters.

During the afternoon I had spoken to the other men as we went about the remainder of the day together. Marsh had been at my side most of that time, talking mostly about his family and fiancée. Keeping in mind what I knew would happen to the young man, I found myself searching the hut and surrounding area for anything he may have used to complete his suicide. Finding very little that I could foresee as being remotely useful, I left everything as it lay, believing my best option would be to make another attempt to discuss the previous night with him. Unfortunately, I had come to this conclusion around the same time Al had shown up; delaying my discussion with Jeffrey and forcing my observer and I to conduct our conversation in the doorway of the hut.

My mind was filled with all that Al had told me. Torn between my deep affection for my friend and the knowledge that I actually knew very little about him, I found myself seeing him through new eyes. He had admitted to an affair of sorts with the man who had held him captive during the time of conflict this country had known. If it were actually true, it would be considered treason. Even today, in Al's time, if this piece of information got out, he would stand trial for it. He would lose everything that he had worked for over the years, including his pension. It was shocking to think about, but, for some reason the fact that he had had a homosexual relationship was what had surprised me the most. All the time I had known Al his stand against homosexuality was one prejudice I found impossible to understand. Though now it seemed that had been more about what was expected, given the Navy's no gays policy and a certain amount of self-loathing. Still, I couldn't help wonder if there had been other men in Al's life that he had not felt the same about.

"Verbena is talking to the Lieutenant, Sam. She thinks that perhaps there was something else going on with Marsh." Al informed me, glancing back into the darkened interior of the hut at our rear. 

"So she agrees that what he saw had something to do with him killing himself?"

Al eyed me suspiciously.

"She's got a theory, Sam. She thinks you ought to talk to the kid about these feelings he's got for you." Al said after a pause. 

"Me? What feelings?" I asked, genuinely perplexed by what Al was suggesting.

"Doctor Beeks believes Private Marsh is gay, Sam."

Momentarily speechless I nodded that I understood; though I'm not completely sure that I did right away. If Jeffrey was gay, then all his plans for the future, the plans which I had intended to use as means to dissuade him from killing himself, would never quite fulfil his expectations no matter what I said. If I managed to talk him around as I hoped, then I would be expecting him to live out a lie. The more I thought about the situation, the more Jeffrey's relationship with his fiancée seemed even less ideal than what I already suspected. Each time we had spoken, Jeffrey had sounded like a young man resolved, rather than a young man in love. Resolved and determined not to disappoint those he loved and who loved him, I believed now. Thinking back to my original thoughts on the subject, I suddenly found myself convinced that Verbena’s diagnosis was accurate.

"I'll see what I can find out, Al." I said finally.

"That'll be good Sam." Al answered, looking a little worried as he stared out across the flood lit compound now.

I knew as soon as I saw the man descend the steps of the Commander's quarters and head in our direction that he had come for me. Al, it seemed, had made the same assumption. "Time to go, Sam," he said as the guard approached us.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Odds are he only wants to talk." Al told me as if that was actually a possibility.

"What odds, Al? Do you know for sure that's all he wants?" I was scared and there was little to be gained by pretending I wasn't, especially to Al.

Al shook his head as he spoke, obviously fighting a losing battle with his conscience. We both knew what he was sending me to deal with. "It's an expression, a saying, Sam. And no, I don't know that's all he wants, but you can't not go." My friend's voice had begun to waver by the time the guard had reached us. I knew Al was right, I couldn't refuse to go and risk a repeat of last night.

No one seemed overly disturbed by my escort or the fact that I was being lead to the Commander's quarters. I glanced back at the others as I followed the man who had come for me, a number of them, Jeffrey included watched as I descended the steps, but no one made any move to interfere.

The Commander was seated behind his desk when another guard admitted me on the inside. He stepped back allowing me to enter and then closed the door. Al thankfully had stayed with me, though I doubted he would be able to if the Commander really did want to do more than to just talk. He moved about the Commander's quarters, looking back at me from time to time, but not speaking. We both knew this place held long forgotten memories for him and to his credit he appeared to be holding up remarkably well. Last night Al had had difficulty even looking at the Commander, but now he watched the other man openly, without fear. I could only pray that if he did have to go, he would give me something to guide me through this ordeal. The thought of being alone with this man made me nervous to the point where I could feel myself physically shake when the guard finally left us and Commander stood up. For the first time since I had entered, he looked in my direction, acknowledging my presence.

His eyes travelled over me as he stepped around the side of large desk; absently running one hand along its smooth surface as he moved. My mind replaying what I had not seen the night before when he'd used the piece of furniture to support Private Marsh while he had tried to rape him. Al's description of what had happened had been tinged with disgust; from experience I now understood. Some time, perhaps in the very beginning the Commander had taken him there also. The image of my friend face down, thrashing as this man used him brought on a fresh wave of fear. For the life of me, I could not imagine myself accepting the same fate and yet in the not too distant recesses of my mind I knew that before this night ended I would submit to him. I just didn't know how yet.

Thankfully the Commander did not approach me straight away. Once in motion he proceeded to prepare himself a drink; removing a flask from one of cabinets that stood at the far end of the room. Turning, he had two small bowls similar to the one I had drank from last night balanced in his right hand. Setting them down on the corner of the desk, he retrieved a cigarette from the packet close by, offering one to me, I realised as he held the small box aloft.

"Take it Sam," Al said, his voice demanding.

I stepped closer to extract what had been offered and bent lower as it was lit for me. "Never refuse anything he offers you, Sam." Al advised, moving closer to me now.

After what felt like an eternity of excruciating silence the Commander spoke to me. "Why did you wait for me to send my men for you, Lieutenant? I would have thought you would welcome this opportunity to talk after such a long and stubborn silence."

I didn't understand at first. Last night he had kept me long after he had finished. We had spoken, but remembering my part and his less than satisfied reaction, I knew what was expected now. Something I wasn't aware of during that initial discussion was that their relationship was such that my silence was not the norm.

"I do want talk," I said as I watched him reached behind himself and lifted one of the bowls to his lips.

My next words stalled on my tongue as I watched him sip at the liquid contained in the bowl. Mere inches from where I stood, his eyes glinted at me over the rim, teasing, promising what was not in me to accept without resistance. It was too much. I stepped back and turned away. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt myself flush at the thought of what the Commander was attempting to do. Seduction was an art. Personally I had never found it to be a reliable practice and considered my own skills to be lacking. Either you have the ability to draw others in with a look or a smile or you didn’t. 

Finding myself more affected by the simple gesture than I had thought possible I looked to Al for guidance. Panting slightly, I searched my observer's face for an explanation. How could I make him understand without speaking of what had just happened to me? Had he seen, surely he had, standing so close, Al must have seen. Shaking his head, I realised he had understood the brief exchange only too well and had been as helpless as I to stop the effects of the Commander's taunting.

"What did you want to talk about, Lieutenant? Was it to do with these games you have been playing, or was it something else?" The Commander inquired. Obviously noting my withdrawal, his tone reflected his displeasure of my behaviour clearly.

"Last night." I began, feeling less than confident. "Why did you bring the Private here?" As soon as the words left my mouth I knew it was a mistake. 

"You're asking for trouble, Sam." Al informed me. His face growing worried as his eyes darted from me and then to the Commander and back again. "You can't ask him about his motives; it's only going to make him angry. Please, Sam don't. You don't know what he'll do..."

Al's plea was cut off as the Commander closed the distance between us quickly. Fear gripped me as I felt one of his hands close around my throat and the other shoved hard at the centre of my chest, winding me as I was pushed against the wall behind me. It had happened so fast, I'd had no time to defend myself against the attack. "I did not bring him here." I was told as fingers tightened around my throat. "You think yourself more than what you are, Lieutenant. My men choose him because you refused to come." Anger streamed off the man as spoke, radiating from every fibre of his being and filling me with dread.

I couldn't have moved at that point even if I'd had the thought to do so. Pinned to the wall I found it increasingly difficult to breathe. His hot breath and dark ruinous eyes so close to me. At any moment, if he wished it, I could die and there was no one, including myself who could stop him.

As sudden as the attack had begun it ceased also without warning. After one final shove, the Commander released me and stepped back a couple of paces "I did not choose him." He repeated and then turned away, walking back to toward his desk, I watched him drain the bowl he had set aside and the other one which I had assumed he intended to give to me.

"Sam I can't protect you if you don't do as I say," Al was saying. "You can't underestimate him, he will not tolerate any challenge to his authority, not from anyone. He was right, Sam I did forget my place." He explained sadly.

Listening to Al it was very clear just how much we had both miscalculated the Commander. Al, I was certain, had paid many times for that mistake in countless ways until his release.

Still pressed to the hut wall I trembled as the man who had delivered my friend's punishment returned to the cabinet and removed the liquor filled flask yet again. Carrying it with him, he filled both of the now empty bowls and then set the flask down on the desk before turning back to me.

"Come here Lieutenant," the Commander demanded.

Horrified, I found I could not move away from the false safety of the wall. Pressing against it, I tried to back myself further away from the man who was now moving toward me. I had disobeyed him and although I opened my mouth to speak no words came out as he reached forward and physically pulled me from my haven.

One hand gripped my hip as the other ran up my chest and snaked around the back of my neck, drawing me closer to him. I flinched as the Commander's right hand then moved from my hip and touched my cheek. Resisting the strong urge to turn my face away I closed my eyes, allowing the caress of his fingers and the gentle pressure that manoeuvred me into the position he wished. Sour breath against my face made me flinch and then before I could register what was happening warm dry lips descended on mine; kissing me almost hesitantly at first only to grow in confidence and insistence as they moved to my jaw and then down to my throat. I opened my eyes and tried to push away as I felt a leg inserted between my own and shocking evidence of the Commander’s arousal settle against my thigh. His head came up as I did and I found myself trapped by the sight I saw reflected in his eyes. Al, my friend stared back at me through the Commander, terrified and pleading. This was never what Al had described. No matter what he had told me, this had always been forced upon him.

My whole world tilted then, spiralling me towards a place where there was nothing that would ground me, nothing to reach for, no lifeline to save me from what I knew was going happen. Everything around me seemed to be occurring in slow motion. The imaging chamber opened at my side. A flash of blue light in amongst the swirl of colours surrounding me as I fought to keep my knees from giving way. I saw Al glance in my direction as he stepped through the glowing rectangle and I vaguely heard him apologise for leaving me, and then he was gone.

In the blink of an eye my choices unfurled before me. I could fight; try to stop what the Commander was intent on. Risk my life and that of my friend to save myself from what this man would take no matter what. If I died there was no guarantee that Al and I would change places again. He could remain trapped in the future for the rest of his natural life, and there would be no one to stop Jeffrey. Ultimately, I would fail to save the life of the man I had been sent to help. Al's advice from when we had spoken together earlier this afternoon came back to me. 'You are not here for me,' Al had told me. Private Jeffrey Marsh's life depended on me and by whatever means I choose I was to make certain that I focused only on that.

Shaking uncontrollably I found myself pulled forward again and my hand, lifted forcibly from my side, pressed to the other man's groin. Heat radiated from the area between his legs. Fully aroused now he wasted no time in pushing forward into my hand and recapturing my mouth without any of his original care.

Hot, moist lips and tongue probed the depth of my mouth with known dexterity. Hands that had punished and killed pulled at my clothing, gliding over my skin even before my shirt had been completely removed, moving to the waist of my trousers and immediately searching for a way to release them. Afraid and completely at a loss at how to respond, I simply stood, waiting until he had accomplished his goal and my ragged trousers pooled at my feet.

"No more games, Lieutenant." He said as he moved me out of the material. Statement or question I wasn't sure, only that I knew I had reached the point of no return.

"No Commander," I answered.

"Undress me Lieutenant," he ordered.

Guiding my hands to his chest, the Commander held me firmly until I managed to make my mind and body act as one. With trembling fingers I did as the man instructed. Keeping my eyes adverted I slowly removed his shirt. Folding and laying the discarded item of clothing on the corner of the desk, I attempted to delay my task. Hovering over the folded shirt I looked down at myself, naked and afraid. I had never been with another man, though I understood the mechanics. All of it frightened me. How could I continue doing what the Commander had demanded of me without making him angry again?

Strong and insistent hands grasped my shoulder, turning me to face the man who was waiting for me finish what I had begun. I had hesitated too long, the look on his face read of lost patience and the anger I'd feared re-ignited. "Please," I pleaded, trying to gather myself enough to somehow go on.

" _Please_ Lieutenant!" The Commander snarled, his fingers digging into the bare flesh on my shoulders as he spoke, twisting and forcing me to buckle under the pressure of his hand. "What is it you want? My men perhaps, to help you. Or maybe the young Private. Should I bring him here also?"

"No, please no," I answered. The Commander was deadly serious. There was doubt in my mind that he would do all of things that he had mentioned and more. Dropping to my knees at his feet I quickly untied the laces on his boots, lifting and removing each one in turn, and then without thinking of what I was actually doing, reached to loosen the belt on his trousers, fumbling the fastenings and pulling them down.

Using my kneeling form to steady himself the Commander stepped from his discarded trousers and kicked them aside. He wasn't wearing any underwear, I realised as his erect penis brushed the side of my face. Less than a heart beat later his hands were in my hair, pulling, forcing me take the appendage between my clenched lips. Resisting only made him jerk my head back painfully; gasping under the attack he filled my opened mouth with his length, pushing inward until the size of him forced me to swallow, allowing him to slide down my throat.

Tears stung my eyes and fell unchecked down the cheeks of my face as the Commander raped my mouth. Gagging, I was given no time to adjust to the intrusion that threatened to choke me. Cruel fingers twisted and pulled at my hair each time he withdrew, my teeth dragging over the flesh that invaded me mercilessly. Cursing my very existence the man who stood over me, using me, seemingly without care or thought to anything other than his own demands permeated each inward thrust with more and more vigour.

My head pounded from lack of oxygen and the ferocity in which my assailant held me. Within seconds of its onset, pure terror had seized me as I felt myself begin to slip slowly towards the darkness that I knew would send me into unconsciousness. Survival instincts took over as I attempted to fight, desperately trying to dislodge the organ in my mouth and the hands that clamped my head like a vice. Bringing my arms up, I managed to claw at his fingers, peeling them from my skull and pulling away the moment I felt his hold on me falter.

The blow that I had not seen coming struck my cheek just below my left eye and sent me flying backwards on to the floor. Stunned and disorientated I completely missed what would be my one opportunity to roll away. Before I could think beyond being able to breathe once again the Commander had straddled my hips and was using his weight to hold me down. My arms trapped above my head as he used his own to wrench them into position.

Panting between my splayed legs the Commander rested his head on my heaving chest. Minutes, maybe longer, passed where there was nothing said between us and the only sounds I heard were those of my thundering heart and his laboured breathing. Ultimately he raised his head and spoke to me again. 

Why do you fight me, Lieutenant?" He asked, his voice oddly concerned.

Unable to meet his eyes I turned my head away. I couldn't speak to this man, couldn't explain that I was not the one who had created this fantasy. I wasn't Al; I couldn't pretend to care no matter what it helped me endure. The Commander lay against me for what seemed like ages, waiting for me to answer his question. His body erect, hot and covered in perspiration until finally my silence sealed my fate completely.

Feeling the Commander rise from his position, I tried to brace myself for what I knew would come next. I didn't struggle when he rolled me over and urged me to my knees. There was no escape, no one to come to my rescue. Forsaken, I did my best to stay quiet as I felt myself probed and then finally breached only to fail miserably when the pressure of having him buried deep inside of me became too much. The muscles and tendons surrounding the area burning and tearing as he withdrew and then thrust back in again.

Sobbing, I kept my head down while the assault continued, everything hurt but I tried to think of all the things I was thankful for. I was glad Al wasn't here with me. I don't think I could have stood it if he had stayed. He shouldn't see me like this, shouldn't have to watch. He may think he had deserted me, but he hadn't. He had spared me the shame of having him once again bear witness to an act he could not stop and I was grateful for that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al and Sam talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who has read "The Kiss" you may notice that a situation described in that story is discussed in this chapter of Dark Shadows over Time. Yes, both stories are part of the same series.

I woke to the sound of the imaging door opening nearby. Twisting where I lay, I was met with the sight of my friend and observer bending uncomfortably as he settled on the floor of the hut. He looked miserable. Tired and worn. After Al had left me alone with the Commander I hadn't counted on seeing him again before sun up.

"What's up?" I whispered.

"Nothing Sam, I just wanted to check on you before I turned in for the night. Sorry if I woke you."

"It’s okay Al. I'm glad you came back." I was happy to see Al, though I found myself a little wary once more. Would he know by just looking at me what the Commander had done to me, what I had done, not only for my own survival, but for his and the Privates also?

"Did he hurt you Sam?" The question surprised me. I hadn't expected him to be so candid, even after what we had shared this afternoon.

"No." I lied, shaking my head. The Commander had hurt me, but I couldn't bring myself to burden Al with more than he already had to deal with. It wouldn't help to have him angry over something neither of us could change.

He looked unconvinced. "I'm okay, really Al. I'm just feeling a little lost at the moment." I said, drawing my knees to my chest, unable to meet his gaze for fear he could see right through me.

"I feel like he took something from me,” I continued after a moment, not sure I was making any sense.

Al nodded, thankfully not pressing me for more than I was willing to give. Most likely he knew exactly how I felt. He had experienced the same treatment from the Commander and lived with that secret for thirty years and as a comfortable silence settled around us, I wondered just how many nights he had lain here feeling torn and broken inside. How long was it before he was drawn into believing that the relationship he had with the Commander had anything to do with love? Did he even know now that he had always been raped, not just his body, but his mind also?

Again the distance between us seemed insurmountable. Looking up at him in the darkened hut; a small amount of light offered through the opened doorway, I felt a longing for Al that wrenched at my already worn heart. The lines in face had deepened over the years and his hair was greyer around his temple. Dark shadows under even darker eyes seemed to be a permanent part of his anatomy and I couldn't help but feel that I was the one who had deserted him and not as I had thought earlier; that he would see his leaving me alone with the Commander as abandonment. He should never feel he had ever done anything so as unforgivable as I had to him.

"Jesus, Al I wish I could go home." I told him, my voice breaking under the strain of emotions that filled me. "I'm so sorry," I managed before the sting behind my own eyes became too much to hold back.

"Don't cry, Sam. Please don't. You don't have to be sorry for anything." Al whispered, as I shifted closer to where he sat. "I wish you'd just leap home too. We all do."

"Did I tell you about the party I'm planning?" He added after a short pause.

I shook my head, letting my tears fall unchecked. My head bowed as I listened to Al talk. His voice had always been soothing, a comfort, but I don't think I ever told him that. 

"Yeah sure, Sam it's gonna be great. I’ve been planning it for quite a while now, so it's getting pretty detailed." He was trying to distract me I realised, as he did from time-to-time when nothing else worked. "Just you wait. When you come home, the whole Project is going to be there. I thought we'd hold it in main control, strip out the areas we won't be using anymore, like the accelerator chamber." Al's voice took on a fatherly tone when he spoke about the accelerator. I had no doubt that when I did return home, he would have the chamber dismantled the same day; carefully removing the temptation for me to use it again. He didn't have to worry though. Once I was back in my own time, living my own life, I wouldn't be in any hurry to leave it again.

Using the remains of my sleeve I wiped my eyes and managed to enjoy the picture Al was creating for me. Images of the Project and my friends filtered through my mind as he spoke. I remembered some of them and the different places I used to go. My bio-lab and my office, for instance. Strange things too, like a corridor that seemed to go on for miles and that didn't appear to lead anywhere in particular. The smell of Al cigar's first thing in the morning, a game I'd played with Ziggy when I was bored.

"I remember home, Al." I said as I listened to him talk. "I remember you and me when I was there.”

"What do you remember, Sam?

"Some, I remember you and I building the imaging chamber and when we brought Ziggy online for the first time. Other things too, but they're just bits and pieces and day-to-day stuff."

"What sort of day-to-day things?" He inquired; hesitantly I thought.

I felt odd about the question. I know I should remember more than what I did about our friendship. Telling him I remembered the smell of his cigars just didn't seem enough. We had been friends for more than twenty years, been through more in both our respective lifetimes than most in several. Al had been married five times, spent six years in a POW camp and orbited the moon. I had never been married, held six degrees and been likened to Einstein before I started to believe my own press reports and tested my latest experiment on myself. I smiled at my last thought. Al looked quizzically at me, but thankfully didn't ask me to explain why I was grinning at him like a fool all of a sudden. He had said once, when I first started leaping that he always thought for a genius, I wasn't too bright. Well, on reflection, he was right wasn't he? What kind of madman steps into a nuclear accelerator?

"You know, the goofing around. You telling me I'm not real bright, that kinda thing." I offered, purposely keeping my voice low.

"No, that's after you leaped, Sam." Al returned almost immediately. He seemed frustrated. Something had changed; his attitude toward me was different. It made me uncomfortable and reminded me of what I had thought previously, that there was something he still wasn’t telling me. He appeared lost in his own memories for the moment so I took the opportunity to scan the room, listening intently for the now familiar snores from each of my fellow prisons.

"Do you remember us getting stoned that night in DC when Weitzman gave us the go-ahead for another year?" Al questioned, scratching his head as if he too was searching for something that would trigger the memory he wanted from me.

Strangely I did remember several trips to the capital with Al. More than once, we had gone out for a night on the town after a long day spent in meetings. Getting stoned didn't really sound much like the man I remembered myself to be, though I had known Al to indulge so it was perfectly understandable that he had been willing to share I had decided to join him.

"I remember meetings and nights spent celebrating, if that helps." Judging from his expression, I guessed it didn't. If he had looked frustrated before he looked down right disappointed now. "Look Al, if whatever you're trying to get me to remember is so important, why don't you just tell me? You've told me things about myself before, so what's so different this time?"

"Because this time I don't think you're going to like what I've got to say.” My friend answered solemnly.

I sat up so I was able to see Al better. Looking tenser than I felt, he met my gaze reluctantly

"Just tell me, okay. Whatever it is you need to tell me, don't you?" My fear dissipated as I spoke. Seeing Al so obviously in need of support made it possible for the first time this leap to put my own fears aside in preference to his needs. Some tiny part of myself felt relieved to actually have the ability to repay Al some of what he had given me in the past few days. It meant although I had a long way to go, I would heal, survive, as he had and eventually understand enough to move on.

"Tell me Al." I repeated; more firmly.

"I want to Sam, but it's not easy. When you said you remembered home and us I thought that maybe you already knew. Verbena thought you probably did remember, but just hadn't put two and two together." 

"Does Verbena think I should know whatever it is that you haven't told me? Will it help me with the leap, Al?"

"Yeah she thinks that's why you're here," he said quietly.

"I'm here for Jeffrey, Al. What does that have to do with me remembering being back at the Project with you?" I prompted gently. 

"Because you both faced questioning your sexuality." Al's answer came as no more than a whisper and I found myself leaning forward to hear him.

Very slowly his words and their meaning sunk in. My head swam with dozens of conflicting images, some too confusing for me to understand straightaway and it was at least a full minute or two before I found my voice. "What are you saying? Are you telling me I'm gay?"

Time passed, I don't know how much as we sat facing one another in the darkened hut. Al's eyes locked with mine, his refusal to answer me confirming what I knew was the truth.

"I'm gay, Al." I said finally; glad to break the silence that had stretched on.

"Not exclusively, Sam. I'm only aware of one relationship you had with another man, but it’s possible there's been others." Al's response sounded rehearsed and I had the sudden feeling there was more.

"No others." I said, confident that I was right. "You're talking about us, aren't you Al? That's what this is all about?"

He didn't answer. Choosing to evade my questions once more I watched him closely as he stared down at the hand link, which had laid dormant during his visit. He was planning an escape I realised as his hand edge toward the small machine.

"Were we lovers?" I asked, hoping to stop him from leaving me just yet and willing him to look up.

"No, yes...not exactly."

"It's not that difficult a question Al, either we were or we weren't." I was starting feel cut off again as I had when I first arrived here. Certainly I was confused. What Al had just told me couldn't have come at a more difficult time, but I had questions, God so many questions and I knew he had the answers.

"Please, Al can't you tell me? Was it so terrible that you hate me because of it?" I knew Al didn't hate me. I was grasping at straws; anything to get him to tell me what I needed to know.

"I don't hate you, Sam." Al said as his head finally did come up. "I love you, I have always loved you. We were together before you left, but we hadn't..."

Al's words faded and I found myself finishing his sentence for him. "Consummated our relationship."

"Made love." I was corrected before I could say anymore. "We hadn't gotten that far, Sam and I didn't want to push you into something you weren't ready for. I'd never hurt you, don't you know that?" Al voice had taken on a pleading tone, as if he was trying to convince me of something that would never have entered my head. I knew that Al would never hurt me. What was he suggesting, that I thought he would? Had I accused of him of it?

"I know you'd never hurt me, Al." I said without hesitation. "Why don't you just tell me what happened and I promise I'll do my best to remember."  
Why what Al had just told me hadn't sent me screaming into the night I couldn’t really explain. After so many years as friends I could not automatically discount the possibility that our relationship hadn't always been platonic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time. I will try to get the last part up next week.

Al and I talked through the remainder of the night. Hours spent listening and discussing our relationship and the changes that had occurred in it before I turned my back on everything we might have had. He had left only minutes ago; after the floodlights outside the hut went down, alerting us to the lateness of the hour and revealing a new day. The last day I hoped that I would have to stay here. There had been so much happen during this leap, so many secrets revealed and too many tears shed.

The last of our conversation was once again held in the doorway of the hut. I had moved there to peer out at the morning as the sun rose slowly over the Commander quarters. During those last few moments Al and I had allowed the beauty of the multicoloured sky and the dew covered buildings to wash over us. Letting go of the horror that this place represented to so many and simply enjoying the shared moment. Before leaving me Al had bestowed a brief kiss on my cheek and lifted one weathered hand to brush gently at my face. I felt none of the warmth that having him so close would have generated, but the gesture had rekindled a feeling in me that I had long forgotten. Filling me with courage to meet this day and all it would bring by way of challenges head on. Private Marsh would not die today if either Al or I had anything to say about it. If nothing else Jeffrey would live to discover himself and what it was that he truly wanted from life.

I decided not to return to my place on the floor of the hut, it was too late to try and get any sleep and I had my doubts I would be able to anyway. Sliding down the frame of the door I pulled my legs up tight against my chest, hugging them close and resting my chin on my knees as I kept a silent vigil over the man I was here to save.

Perhaps leaping into Al and having the opportunity to help Jeffrey Marsh was my opening to face my own demons. Of all the things we discussed I found Al's belief that I had initially attempted to escape him by utilizing the most bizarre suicide method known to modern man was the one element I found the most shocking. But of all the things he had helped me to recount about the two of us, whether or not I was in fact trying to kill myself when I stepped into the accelerator chamber that fateful night was not something I could remember. It was too long ago, my motivation for why I choose that night, knowing full well it was dangerous and the retrieval program was less than reliable was a mystery to both of us.

Saddened by the knowledge that Al had spent the last six and a half years believing I would rather kill myself than face him on our relationship I did my best to reassure him that when I did leap home I was willing to sit down and discuss whatever he wanted me to. I owed Al my life, many times over and I was not going to just allow what we had developed over the years to fade away. Discovering we had been more than just friends was a little strange as it was not something I would have ever imagined in my wildest dreams, but the idea that we were more to one another didn't exactly leave me cold either.

With more patience than I would have thought possible Al had painstakingly retold our story, starting with the night we had spent in Washington seven years ago. A night where we had shared our first kiss, I recalled. Remembering the supreme tenderness of his touch, the gentleness of the embraces we had shared was overwhelming at times as the feelings rushed over me in a flood of pure emotion as he spoke. How I could have forgotten what I left behind? How Al had stood by and not told me, I may never understand?

The thought that I would shun Al and the love that he offered, still offered me was not something I was proud of. Shamed by the realisation my abandonment of Al had been more than just that of friend and director of our project, I also learnt that ours was not an affair that others were aware of. We had kept the intimacy we shared to ourselves, confiding in no one for all the months Al and I had attempted and failed to find a comfortable level, therefore leaving him to ponder my reasons for leaping alone and allowing his imagination to dwell on the problems we'd been having before I left. 

Certainly my fears regarding a physical relationship had not changed and considering the act I had been forced to commit this very night the prospect of ever having anyone touch me in that manner was not something I could comprehend without being stricken with the memory of what I had suffered. I told Al. Honestly expressing my fears. It was too soon he had said apologetically, blaming himself for forcing the issue. We had continued on though and I was glad we had. Eventually finding a new understanding for leaping here to help Jeffrey accept that love and or attraction to another of your own sex was not a sin. The revolution toward acceptance of same sex relationships had already begun, he was not alone and even though the road would not be easy there were places and people who could help him.

There were also people who could help Al and me and I prayed silently as I sat watching Jeffrey in the stillness of the hut that if I was to expect any reward at the end of my leaping through time all these years, that it would be for Al and I to have our chance also. If we were to ever to have any kind of future then we needed to be prepared to seek the support and counsel of those who could release us both from the pain and fear our love had reawakened.

Feeling loved, truly loved by another is not something I have felt for myself for more years than I care to think about. But waiting for Jeffrey Marsh and the others to wake to this new day I allowed the associated sensations to fill me, giving me so much more than just a reason to go on. Awaiting my return was a man who would never hurt me, never ask too much of me, and who would love me until the end of my days. All that mattered was that there was love, the kind many searched all their lives for and never found, had found me and I would not let it slip through my fingers simply because the form in which it came was not what I'd expected.

Stretching I stood after a time and checked the outside for the Commanders men, spying the sentry at the top of the water tower. I made myself seen clearly in the doorway before I descended the steps of the hut. Slipping around the side to the latrine, relieving myself and washing away the evidence of the previous night. Pushing all thoughts of the attack away as I cleaned my body as best I could. I was taught growing up that only God has the right to judge those for the wrongs they do others. I would not spare the Commander more thought than was required for the remainder of the leap, I decided. There was a God and he would deal with the man who had taken from me what was mine to give another.

Returning to the hut I was met with a bleary eyed Steve Thorn. He watched me enter and then slide down the wall not far from Private Marsh before he spoke to me. "You okay, Lieutenant?" He inquired through a yawn.

Remembering the blow the Commander had dealt me last night I raised my hand to my cheek, carefully touching the area where he had struck me. There was a little swelling and a small break in the skin, but it wasn't bad.

"Yeah, sure Steve." I answered across the room. "Just another one to add to the others, nothing to worry about."

"You want me to take a look at you?"

It took me a moment or two to realise what the young medic was offering. He knew of course, Al had said that Steve had been the one to patch him in the very beginning. Shame and embarrassment made me look away from the younger man. Shaking my head, I assured him that it wasn't necessary.

"Thanks, but I'll live." I said, hoping he wouldn't press the matter.

"Suit yourself." Steve remarked as he rose and then stretched; exiting the hut as soon as he was finished working the muscles out of his back and shoulders.

Private Marsh was the to last stir, he joked with the others as he had yesterday during the time before we were gathered in the compound, but quite plainly was keeping his distance from me. Even going so far as to shift places to stand next to Steve after I had slipped in between him and one of the other men. Glaring at me from his new position it became obvious my close proximity was unwelcome. It wasn't what I had expected from him. Over the past couple of days Jeffrey had sought me out.

Al appeared briefly during the Commanders address to his men, but only stayed long enough to check on myself and Jeffrey before vanishing again, promising to return with information about the timing of the Privates suicide as soon as he was able. At that I wondered how he was coping with the man in the waiting room through all of this. How must the younger vision of Al see this preview of his further? Were Al and Verbena dealing with a resistant visitor or was the Lieutenant assisting us in a way no other had in the past?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam completes the leap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part of this story. I hope you have enjoyed it. 
> 
> I will posting the other stories in the "Dark Shadows over Time" series in the coming weeks.

Once the Commander returned to his quarters and we were released to go our own way again I moved quickly; casually slinging my arm around Jeffrey's shoulders in a veiled effort to stop him escaping me. Ushering him away from the group wasn't difficult and thankfully he didn't resist, only looking a little perplexed as I led him to where I had discovered several wooden crates stuffed under one of the disused buildings. I had found them yesterday afternoon when I had searched the camp for anything Jeffrey may have used to reach the ceiling of our hut. Concluding much later on that his shirt would have most probably made a sufficient noose and height was his only real obstacle when it came to acting on his suicide plan.

Pulling the crates out one at a time I proceeded to stack them as Jeffrey stood by; checking with him each time I added another to my growing pile. Recognition that someone else had seen a use for the crates came slowly and it was only when my task was almost complete did his youthful curiosity take over. 

"What are you doing, Lieutenant? Building something?" He asked.

I didn't answer, motioning instead for him to stand back as I climbed the height of the structure I had just built. Standing precariously at the top I looked down on my charge. I had elevated myself by at least six foot and could, given a little assistance and opportunity easily assemble my tower to reach the ceiling of the hut.

Luckily our current position hid my behaviour from the rest of the camps inmates or I don't think I would have had the time it then took me to descend the crates and meet Jeffrey face to face once more. 

"Who helped you?" I demanded, stepping into the younger mans personal space.

Fear and confusion clouded Jeffrey's eyes as he attempted to move away, only to be caught as I grabbed him by the back of his neck and refused to release him. Ensuring his attention I drew him closer. "What are you planning Private?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he returned, obviously frightened. "Let me go, you’re hurting me, Lieutenant," Jeffrey added, struggling under my grip. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing wrong with me kid, but I know you're up to something, so why don't you just tell me and get it over with."

"You’re mad." Jeffrey whimpered as I increased the pressure on the back of his neck. I wasn’t really hurting him, but I did want him to know that I meant business.

"Is that why you're avoiding me all of a sudden? You think what I've got is catching?" Intense blue eyes dropped their gaze, looking anywhere but at me. Shame, I believed made the young man in my grasp go suddenly limp, defeated before he had a chance to deny the truth.

"Leave me alone, please Lieutenant. Just leave me alone," he said quietly.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked, letting go a little of the hold I had on him.

Gaining enough access to shake his head Jeffrey tugged at the small amount of leverage I'd given him; pulling free a moment later and turning his back on me. I was relieved he didn't simply walk away, which of course he could of. I'm not sure what I would have done if he had, chasing him around the camp was certainly not an option.

Standing not far from where I stood Jeffrey's head was bowed and I could tell by his posture that he had folded his arms across his chest.

Approaching him cautiously, I reached out and gently laid my hand on his slumped shoulders. Immediately recoiling at my touch he spun quickly on his heels, facing me as he spoke. "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me," he spat.

Taken back by the sudden change in character I could only watch as his mood worsened; stepping out of his way as he moved without direction in the small area beside the hut.

"Keep your filthy hands of me Lieutenant or I swear I'll...I'll," he said, running out of words at the end.

"You'll what, Jeff," I said calmly. "Kill yourself?"

"Yes, I'd rather die than have you put your stinking faggot hands on me again." Such pain and conviction I had never seen before. Marsh was clearly at the end of his endurance and felt my heart go out to him. Was Al right, had my fear of another man touch become so great that I had felt as Jeffrey did at this moment, choosing death opposed to life as a homosexual?

Raising my hands in a mock gesture of surrender I moved slowly to where Private Marsh stood. Visibly shaking he backed away as I approached. "I won't touch you Jeff, I promise. Just let me talk to you for a bit, okay. You need someone to talk right now," I said; keeping my voice low and even so as not to frighten him more than he already was.

Standing a little over a yard away from me now he seemed to be at a loss at where to turn next. The possibility that he would strike me had halted my footsteps and I did not try to close the distance between us. I didn’t want to have to restrain him again, even if it was in an effort to stop him hitting out at me. 

The sound of the imaging chamber opening behind me startled me for a moment. Although, I was grateful as always for Al arrival. Jeffrey and I had been separated from the others for quite a while now and I imagined someone would come looking for us soon enough. I needed more time and I knew Al could check on the others for me.

"I'm just going to get us something to sit on," I said to Jeffrey, motioning toward the pile of crates behind him.

Realising my predicament Al appeared at my side. Whispering what I needed from him he immediately disappeared again while I arranged seating for both Jeffrey and myself.

Jeffrey sat after I placed the crate at his side, apparently needing more support than what his own legs provided, but obviously not ready to run away just yet either. It was a little ray of hope, I decided. 

"You think I'm a fag, Jeff?"

"Aren't you," he said looking down at his feet.

"The Navy doesn't take gays and in case you've forgotten, I’ve got a wife waiting for me when I get home."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"Does to me."

"I don't believe you. You're a fucking liar." He said with more disdain than I had expected from him. "I saw you with him." This added as he raised his eyes to meet mine. Pain and betrayal punctuating each word. Whatever the bond that had existed between Al and this young man had been sorely tested over the last few days and I could only hope the damage wasn't irreparable.

"The longer you live Private the more you'll realise not everything is as it appears," I replied adding a little authority to my tone. "Do you think I wanted the Commander to force me to do that? Do you honestly believe if there had been another way to stop him from hurting you, I wouldn't have taken it?"

Marsh didn't answer me, not that I expected him to. Mostly I was just trying to give him something to think about in hopes that he'd stay with me long enough for me to explain what I needed to.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Jeff."

"I don't need you, I can take care of myself. You think I need some fag to look out for me," he said bitterly.

From what I understood of his relationship with Al, my friend had taken care of him. Our interactions over the past couple of days had indicated Jeffrey saw Al as someone that he admired. I didn't doubt that Al's ability to survive over the years he spent as a P.O.W had not gone unnoticed by the men he had served with. 

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because I don't want to be like you and I don't want anyone thinking I am."

"Not good enough," I said bluntly, rising from my place perched on the crate. "You're afraid of me all of a sudden and I want to know why?"

"I'm not. You don't know what you’re talking about, Lieutenant. You let him screw with you too long and now you don't know your ass from your elbow."

The odd turn of phrase left me a little confused for a moment until I figured it was just another way of telling me I was wrong about him.

"Am I? Don't you think I know what's it's like to be afraid?" I asked. "Do you know what I'm most afraid of?"

Al reappeared as I stood waiting for a response from Private Marsh; he nodded, letting me know everything was okay for the moment and staying quite as I turned my attention back to Marsh.

"Not going home." I said solemnly "I've got to go home, Jeff and I get so scared sometimes that I think I won't be able to bare it. But there's you and the others here, and Beth when I get home. I've got to keep going."

I saw Al flinch out of the corner of my eye as I mentioned his wife, a wife who we both knew would not be there when he was repatriated in a few months time. She had been his reason for holding on; enduring every minute of the years he had spent in camps like this one.

"How can you even think about going back to your wife after what you let the Commander do to you?" Jeffrey's tone was one of actual interest, the first he had shown in all the time we had been talking. 

"I can't think about anything else, it's what gets me through each day. You have someone waiting for you, you know what it’s like." I said gently.

"I don't know that I can go back, Lieutenant." This said as he looked away from me again, lost in his own thoughts for a moment, I let him be while I glanced over at my observer. Al appeared removed somehow, studying the ever-present hand link, he looked up, meeting my eyes and as if reading my mind shook his head.

"Not yet, Sam. Odds that he'll kill himself today are still the same." Al informed me. "Looks like you’re going to have to take Doctors Beeks advice and ask out right about being gay."

I didn't relish the thought of broaching the subject with Jeffrey. It was obvious his fears were real, but I still wasn't convinced that I would actually have to force him to admit his sexual orientation. It would be easier on him in the time he was here if he didn't have to, I decided.

"Why can't you go home, Jeff?" I asked gently.

"Doesn't matter."

"I think it does, and I think I know what it is that's got you so twisted up inside as well. Do you want me to tell you what it is?" I offered sitting back down again and meeting him on an equal level.

"Sam, be careful." Al said at my side. "This may be your last chance."

"It's okay." I answered aloud, aware that Jeffrey could hear me also. Hopefully soothing him at the same time as letting Al know that I knew what I was doing.

"You’re thinking what the Commander tried to do you and what he made you watch has changed you somehow." Jeffrey sat quietly as I spoke, his posture relaxing a little I thought. "Is it that going back to...?” At that moment I couldn't remember his fiancée name, glancing up at Al he immediately supplied me with the information I required.

"Michelle, Sam. But he calls her Shelley," Al informed me.

"...Shelley?" I repeated. Jeffrey's eye came up instantly, a frighten expression shadowing his face. I was close. "Are you afraid of being with her?" I asked carefully, praying my use of the words 'being with her' would be understood.

"I don't think I'll ever be the same, Lieutenant. She should have better than me." He whispered sadly.

"Don't you love her?"

Jeffrey didn't answer me straight away, but I could see by the way he was weighing the question that he was considering it. "Not the way I should. I know I'm supposed to have all these feelings for her, but I don't." He said finally, still looking to me for understanding despite all he had said and accused me of while we'd been talking.

"Ask him if there's someone else, Sam." Al prompted, moving closer to the Private.

Glancing over at Al I felt myself hesitate. If we were right and Jeffrey was about to tell me he was gay and his encounter with the Commander had brought his confused feelings for Al to the surface I maybe very be dealing with a disclosure that could decide this young man’s future. Jeffrey stared at me across the short distance separating us, waiting for a reaction I assumed to what he had told me about the woman that he was engaged to marry. I felt pity and loss for all that he was going loose, but hope also that I could understand better than most what he was going through at this moment. 

Looking down at my bare feet I allowed myself a moment of reflection. Seven years ago I had spent the overnight stay in my country's capital with Al as I had on our previous visits there, only this night had been very different from the rest. On this particular occasion he had told me that he loved me and this announcement had changed both our lives. 

"I care about you Jeffrey." I began slowly. "I also know what you're going through at the moment, so I'm going to be honest with you, okay?"

"Sure."

"I remember the first time I saw you. I don't think I've ever seen anyone as afraid as you were then." I continued, drawing on my all too clear recollections of my leap in. "You've never known about what can happen between two men before have you?"

Private Marsh looked completely horrified as I spoke; clearly he hadn't expected anyone, let alone the Lieutenant to speak of such things to him.

"Of course not, you think I want to know about the stuff fags do?"

"I'm not saying you do, Jeff. Just asking the question, and I take it that your answer is no."

"Sam, he's going to bolt at any minute. Jesus, if he didn't think I was gay before you've left no room for doubt for him now." Al was stricken, moving to stand beside me now he immediately began entering something into the link in his hand. Madly slapping the tiny machine as it screamed painfully in resistance to the speed the commands were being requested.

"It's not something to be ashamed of, and neither is being curious." I explained carefully.

Jeffrey's face remained pale, but much of his initial horror had faded away. He offered nothing to suggest he would deny what I had said nor did he show signs of 'bolting' as Al had put it. He wasn't going anywhere, I realised the longer we sat staring at one another. I knew his secret, it had taken him awhile but now he seemed almost relieved.

The sounds of panic coming from my observer grew less vocal as Jeffrey and I regarded one another. "I don't believe this, Sam." Al was saying now. "Keep going; ask him now about his feelings towards you."

"You and I've gotten pretty close since you've been here, Jeff." I began again, taking Al's cue to go on. "I can understand what you saw the other night must have frightened you and that you have some notion that all men who behave like the Commander are gay, but you're wrong. What the Commander did to me had nothing to do with being a homosexual. He raped me; rape is about power, not sex. Sex between consenting adults is usually an expression of love or affection. I don't know another man who would treat anyone, man or woman the way the Commander treated me and profess anything other than a wish to dominate and punish."

Other than the occasional bleep from the hand link silence prevailed beside me. The young man who still held my gazed appeared utterly transfixed on what I was saying to him, and though Al had not given me the word I knew what I was saying was having the desired effect.

Taking a cleansing breathe I tried to describe what I knew of same sex relationships to Private Marsh without giving to much away about my host. Al was a good twenty years older than Jeffrey and it would be understandable that he knew more of the world and its intricate going on's than a young Private on his first tour of duty.

"Love, for all of us is not decided solely on what you'd expect." I explained slowly. "We don't get to choice those who we love or who love us. Weather they are decided for each and every one of us in some great plan when we are born I'm not sure, only that God, time or chance knows what potential we all have to feel and express love. The colour of one’s skin just like our age and gender are usually some of the factors we considered when enter a relationship with someone." 

Jeffrey nodded once in agreement to what I was saying. Every generation is the same I believed, no one had actually said the exact words to me but I remember when I was Jeffrey's age, or perhaps a little younger learning that any relationship we expected to develop beyond friendship was the ones we considered more important than the others. And it was those relationships that we worked to make fit into the code of general acceptance, no matter what our hearts told us.

"I've met many men over the years, Jeff. Some I trust from the moment I lay eyes on them and some, well some I wouldn't ever be able to turn my back on given a dozen years of working alongside of them. Our instincts tell us if someone's worthy or not to be counted among our friends or if they’re someone we can depend on. The same goes with the other relationships we may enter, forget what's on the surface and believe in yourself and what your instincts are telling you." 

"But I don't know what my instincts are telling me, Lieutenant? I'm so confused and everything I used to believe doesn't make sense anymore." Jeffrey stiffened as he spoke, it was apparent from where I sat he was struggling to keep himself and his emotions under control. "I use to think that marrying Shelley was all that I ever wanted, that once we were married everything would just fall into place. But, shipping out here and being captured has changed everything. Meeting you..." He broke off, shaking his head.

"Meeting me has changed your ideas about yourself?" I offered carefully.

The young man sitting opposite regarded me sadly. "Yes." He confirmed. The solitary tear that had hung motionless near the corner of his eye finally escaped and slid down his flushed cheek as he spoke. It was quickly brushed aside in a vain attempt to hide what most men would see as a weakness.

"I can't go back to Shelley." Jeffrey whispered, his voice so quite I had to strain to hear him. A tiny sob escaping his shaking frame as I returned the trusting gaze with sympathy. Accepting discretion was always the better part of valour I forced myself not to move from where I sat and go to him. Odds were he would still resist any physical contact from me and I didn't want to place him in position where he would have to risk appearances. In another time and place I would have gladly held him and offered what support my presence could provide, but not now unfortunately.

"Jeffrey, if getting to know me has changed how you see yourself it doesn't mean you can't go home. From what you've told me about Shelley and your parents, they love you very much. It may not be easy for them to accept whatever these changes are, but you have to give them a chance. You have to give yourself a chance." I said, hopefully giving him the direction he had lacked before.

"That's it Sam, Ziggy says the odds of him attempting to kill himself today or any time in the future have dropped to negligible. You've done it." Glancing up at Al I managed a quick nod to acknowledge what he had told me. "Stick with the kid and I'll go and check on the others." He added and then vanished.

"I'm not sure they'll understand, they have such high hopes for me and Shelley."

"They may not right away, but you'll never know if you don't tell them."

Al's sudden reappearance was closely followed by Steve Thorn, whose unexpected presence put an end to whatever else Jeffrey might have confided in me. The spell of privacy was broken and Jeffrey instantly squared his shoulder, shedding all outward signs that he had been very close to breaking down completely. He stood up as Steve approached us.

"Is this where you two have been hiding out?" Thorn announced in a voice loud enough for the entire camp to have heard him.

No one said anything for a moment of awkward silence. Carefully guarded glances between Jeffrey and myself told me he was a little embarrassed, but I read no more of the anger and pain I seen in his eyes as we'd spoken. He'd be okay for the time being, and hopefully for whatever awaited him in the future.

"So you got the Lieutenant to give you hand with the crates." Steve was saying now as he surveyed the disarray around him. "You should have said something Jeff; I didn't think you were in a hurry for them."

"It's okay, I don't think I'll be needed them after all." Jeffrey told the other man. "They're not much good for anything anyway." He added toeing the closest crate. "Some of them have rotten slats, see."

I stood back as Steve bent to inspect the weather-beaten timber in question. Watching the two young men for a few minutes as they carefully appraised and discussed the uses of the wooden crate. Eventually stepping aside to have a quite word with Al.

"That was great, Sam. I wasn't sure he was gonna let you tell him anything there for a while." My observer told me.

"No, he had me worried too Al. But I'm very glad he did listen, other than following him around there wasn't going to be another way to stop him." I said, glancing over at Jeffrey.

He appeared deeply engrossed in the conversation he was having with Steve now and for the first time since he had woken this morning I relaxed. Jeffrey hadn't actually admitted to be gay but it didn't matter, if he was than hopefully I had been able to make what was in front of him a little easier. And if he wasn't then at least the issue of his confusion had been addressed. Breathing a sigh of relief I looked back at Al. His elation was waning and I understood why, my time here was almost over. Any moment now I would leap out, separated once more for God only knew how long from Al. I felt myself torn between the trauma I had suffered while I was here and being away from the image of the man beside me. The gravity of it brought a lump to my throat and my heart arched at the thought of losing him again. If the memories of this leap left me as I left this host then all I had learnt about Al and I could be lost also.

"Don't let me forget, Al." I whispered to him, as we stood very close now. "Please remind me of what I have and what I could have when I get home."

Al face paled slightly, he looked tired again. His internal clock letting him know the job was done and he could relax. Only he didn't look relaxed, just sad.

"Promise me, Al. Promise to tell me you love me each time you see me, I don't want to forget."

"I promise, Sam." He answered, his voice sounding rougher than usual, fatigue taking its toll. "I do love you, and if that's what you want than I won't let you forget it for a single moment."

"It is what I want." I told him, feeling myself start to tremble slightly at the thought of leaving him even for a few minutes let alone days. There was something else I wanted though, something I wanted just as much as being reminded of the love that we shared. Al needed to know what he had believed all these years about himself and the Commander was wrong. "I want you to promise me something else, Al." I said, trying to hold on to what time we had left together. 

"Anything, Sam."

"Talk to Verbena, ask her to see you...professionally. She can help you deal with what happened while you were here. Help you recover, Al."

I had thought Al would be resistant to the idea of seeking support from Verbena. His past experiences and well-known dislike of psychiatrists was not going to be easy to overcome. 

"Already arranged, Sam." He said. "I've talked to her a couple times while you've been here and she wants me to start regular sessions. I didn't like the idea first up but I've agreed. "

"I'm glad." I was surprised by his answer.

"Yeah, I thought you might be." Al said, grinning slightly. "She's not bad for a shrink, could be worse I figured. She could look like Gooshie and I'd have to sit there and look at his ugly mug."

Al's answer to everything was bad humour, especially in difficult situations. He never did like to say good bye. I couldn't blame him, I thought admiring the way his smile lit up his face.

The world around me slowed down then, a sensation I could liken to coming to the end of a journey. I knew what it meant. "I love you, Al." I managed before I was pulled abruptly out of 1973 and Al's life. Thrust into space and time once more.

THE END


End file.
